Love Will Set You Free
by a-bit-of-madness
Summary: Takes place immediately after I'll Be Your Stone: Hermione and Draco navigate their way through a new world. No longer separated by the war, they can finally be a normal couple. But what exactly constitutes normal after you've taken down the darkest wizard in history? They've kept each other strong this long, but will their love really be enough to free them from the darkness?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome Back! This is the sequel to my story I'll Be Your Stone, so if you haven't read that I suggest going back and looking at it or else this might not make as much sense. As usual, I own nothing blah,blah,blah...**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

 **-Emma**

Draco was the first to succumb to the darkness, screaming out her name.

"I'm here," Hermione promised, leaning over him and taking his face in her hands. "Draco, it's alright, I'm here. It's just a dream, love, please wake up."

He thrashed in his sleep and she instinctively knew that he was trying to reach her, trying to get to her as she lay on the floor in Malfoy Manor.

"Draco I'm here!" she repeated. "I'm right here."

When he thrashed again, she straddled his hips and allowed her entire body weight to rest on him, her forehead resting against his.

"Draco Malfoy, you listen to me," she ordered, forcing her voice not to shake. "It's just a dream. You're having a nightmare and you need to wake up. Now, Draco. Wake up!"

His eyes flew open and he gasped, pushing her off in a panic and sitting up.

"Shh, shh." Hermione sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulder, quietly reassuring him. "You're alright, I'm right here. Just breathe, Draco. Just breathe."

She waited for him to orient himself, her face pressed against his back as she repeated her affirmations. After a minute he tugged at her arm, so she straddled his waist and took his face in her hands, waiting for his eyes to focus on her.

"You're okay," he breathed heavily.

"Right as rain," she smiled.

Draco nodded and fell back against the mattress, pulling Hermione down on top of him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, resting her head against his chest and listening closely as his heartbeat returned to normal.

"No." He reached up and began scratching her scalp softly, knowing that it would put her to sleep and keep her from asking questions.

"Are you sure?"

"Hermione," he bit out her name tersely, then stopped and took a deep breath, knowing she was just trying to help.

Hermione seemed to understand this and didn't keep pushing. Instead, she nodded and pressed a kiss to his neck, before settling comfortably against him.

* * *

When Hermione began flailing around a few hours later, Draco was already awake and quickly reached out to calm her.

"No, please," she whimpered, fighting against him. "Don't, please!"

"Hermione," Draco shook her lightly. "Sweetheart, wake up."

"Ron, please! Don't!"

Draco froze momentarily, a ball of rage settling in his chest. What the hell had the ginger weasel done to his girlfriend?

"Hermione," he raised his voice. "Hermione, you need to wake up. It's just a dream, love." He shook her again, but it did nothing as she began to sob desperately in her sleep, begging Weasley to stop whatever he was doing in her dream.

These were the moments that killed Draco, the inhuman sounds that came out of her as she sobbed broke his heart. All he wanted was to take care of her, to take away her pain, and he couldn't. All he could do was hold her and promise her that she was safe and that he loved her, so that was what he did.

He wasn't exactly sure when she woke up, but he eventually felt her hands grip his arm and when he looked down her eyes were open and she looked terrified.

"Hey, you're alright," Draco promised, holding her even tighter. "I've got you."

"Harry," she choked.

"Potter's fine," he assured her. "He's with the Weasleys, up in Gryffindor tower."

"Ron-"

"He's fine too." _For now_ , Draco thought.

Hermione nodded, sitting up and resting her elbows on her knees. Her hands quickly wound into her hair, tugging at it anxiously as she took deep breaths and tried to orient herself.

"We're in my dorm," Draco said softly, tracing his hand slowly up and down her spine.

"The Puddlemere United poster gave it away," she sniffed.

"Are you questioning my Quidditch loyalties?" Draco asked, pinching her hip gently.

"Of course not." She shook her head, and Draco could hear the smile in her voice, despite the fear it still held. "You're just the only Puddlemere fan I know."

"Really? Who do Boy Wonder and Weasel cheer for, then?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"Harry doesn't really have a team, but Ron goes for the Chudley Cannons- do not say whatever it is you're thinking about saying," she threatened, twisting around so she could see his face.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he lied, trying to look innocent.

Hermione snorted. "Sure you weren't."

"You called out for him," Draco said quietly, sitting up beside her. "While you were sleeping."

"Who?"

"Weasley."

He didn't miss the way that she tried to shrink away from him, suddenly becoming very interested in the quilt covering her legs.

"You begged him not to do something," Draco continued.

"Please." She shook her head, her light tone from only moments ago gone and replaced by sheer desperation. "Draco, please don't."

"Hermione did he hurt you?"

"Draco," she pleaded with him again, her voice breaking.

"Hermione," he placed his hand on the small of her back, watching her intently. "Please, love, you can tell me."

Hermione took a few deep breaths, trying to pull herself together enough to tell him what had happened- something she'd avoided ever since that first night at Shell Cottage.

"He left," she finally admitted, unable to look at him as she spoke.

Draco nodded slowly, vaguely remembering this piece of information from the shouting match she and her friends had when they got to Shell Cottage. He'd meant to ask her about it later, but there had always been more important things to discuss- or so he thought.

"We'd been in hiding for a couple months, and we'd found the first horcrux- the necklace," Hermione explained, her voice barely more than a whisper and her eyes fixed on a spot near the end of the bed. "We didn't want to risk losing it, so we took turns wearing it. It messed with our emotions, our thoughts. Whenever you wore it, you just felt so angry. Ron had the hardest time- he's always had a temper and the necklace just made it that much easier to get on his bad side. We were barely eating, we hadn't had time to properly pack and we had to scavenge all our meals. It was getting to all of us, but Ron..."

She trailed off for a moment, shaking her head.

"We were trying to figure out how to destroy it." She continued after a minute, as Draco traced patterns on her back softly, a comforting reminder that it was over now. "I'd just worked it out, more or less, and Harry and I were excited- we were finally getting somewhere, you know? Ron was so angry, though. He was convinced that there was something going on between Harry and I- that we were talking about him behind his back, keeping secrets from him. He and Harry started to row, screaming at each other. I thought they were going to start beating each other, but then Harry told him that he should go if he didn't want to be there, so he did. Ron wanted me to leave with him, he said I could choose him or Harry-"

She stopped again, letting a small sob escape as she relived that night in her mind.

"I begged him to stay, but he wouldn't. I followed him out of the tent and to the edge of the wards, I tried to pull him back, but he just wouldn't listen. He shoved me off of him and before I could get up he was gone, outside the wards, and I couldn't-"

Her voice finally broke completely, tears beginning to fall again as she buried her face in her hands.

"He left," she choked out. "He looked me right in the eye and told me I could stay or I could go, and then he left us. He left me."

"He came back," Draco tried to comfort her, despite wanting nothing more than to storm Gryffindor Tower and wring the youngest Weasley son by his scrawny ginger neck.

"But he left," Hermione shook her head, using the palms of her hands to wipe away her tears. "We promised that we would support each other, that we would take care of each other no matter what, but he didn't! Things got hard and he ran away."

"I'm sorry," Draco kissed her shoulder, trying to think of a way to make her feel better.

"Don't ever leave me like that," she whispered, suddenly, in the most shattered tone Draco had ever heard. "If you ever leave, don't let it be like that."

"I'm not going anywhere-"

"-But if you do," she insisted, finally turning to face him, a desperate look in her eye.

"I promise you, Hermione, I will never leave you like that," Draco insisted, taking her hand in his. "Never. I wouldn't be able to."

"I never thought Ron would be able to either," she sniffled.

Unable to see her so broken, Draco maneuvered himself to sit partially in front of her and took her face in his hands, desperate for her to believe him- to trust in his love for her. "I will _never_ hurt you like that, and I will _never_ leave you- _ever_. I can't live without you."

Hermione studied his face carefully for a minute, taking in each and every inch of it- every line and crevice and twitch- before finally nodding and allowing the tension in her body to release ever so slightly.

"Come here," Draco pulled her flush against him, easing them back against the pillows again and holding her tightly. "Try to get some more sleep."

He could tell that she was fighting it, her hands roaming listlessly across his chest and arms, but once again the feeling of his nails scratching softly against her scalp finally lulled her to sleep and the weight of her head on his chest had Draco following not long after.


	2. Chapter 2

The next thing he knew someone was shaking Draco awake, and without a second thought, he pulled his wand from under his pillow and bolted upright.

"Stand down, mate!" Blaise jumped back from the bed, his hands raised. "It's just me."

"Sorry," Draco dropped his wand quickly, scrubbing at his face with his free hand. "Reflex."

Blaise waved him off as though it was nothing, they all did it after all. "Potter and Weasley are at the door looking for Granger. I figured she wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up by a relative stranger, though."

"Good call," Draco agreed, "she's even quicker than I am."

He let out a yawn, stretching his arms over his head, then rolled over to wake Hermione.

"Time to wake up, love," he whispered in her ear. "Your specky friend's getting suspicious."

She groaned adorably and covered his face with her had, trying to push him away.

"Come on, sleepy head," Draco chuckled, kissing her temple. "There's a new world order to welcome."

"No pressure or anything," Blaise snorted. "I'll go tell Potter she's getting up."

Draco nodded to his friend and started to get up, figuring Hermione would be more apt to follow if he wasn't there to use as a pillow.

"Draco," she groaned, reaching out as she felt him move away.

"I'm right here," he promised. "But we have to get up."

"Don't want to," Hermione grumbled, grabbing his pillow and burying her face in it.

"So I'll just let Potter in here, shall I?"

"Do I have clothes on?" she asked, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yes," Draco laughed.

"Then by all means."

She pulled the quilt up so that only the top of her head was visible, making it look less like there was a girl in Draco's bed than there was a small tribe of Pygmy Puffs.

* * *

"Where's Hermione?" Ron demanded as soon as Draco stepped into the common room, his tone sending more than a few kids scrambling behind Daphne and Blaise.

"She won't get out of bed," Draco explained flatly. "Come on."

Nodding for the Gryffindors to follow, he turned on his heel and began making his way back down the corridor to his dorm room. "How'd you know where she was, anyways?" he asked, figuring he should at least try and make an effort to get along with Hermione's friends.

"I, uh, have a map-" Harry answered vaguely, his eyes darting back and forth wildly. How this bloke had defeated the ruddy Dark Lord was beyond Draco if this was what he looked like trying to hide a secret. Draco didn't point this out, though, instead he just nodded.

"Oh, right, that Marauding thingy," he remembered. "Hermione's mentioned it. I didn't know it showed where dormitory entrances were, though."

"Well, we already knew where the entrance was," Harry mumbled, eyes twitching again.

"How the hell do you know where the door to the Slytherin common room is?" Draco asked, stopping in front of the dorm room and pushing the door open.

"They snuck in during Second Year," Hermione offered sleepily, still buried under the quilt.

"Did they now?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "And what were _you_ doing while they were sneaking in?"

"That's not important."

Ron and Harry both let out snorts of laughter, though they tried to cover them with coughs.

"Not _one_ word." Hermione sat up and glared at them fiercely, then turned to Draco, who looked like he'd just been told he was getting a dragon for Christmas. "And _you_ will forget you ever heard that."

"I most definitely will not," he scoffed. "Merlin, I've just got so many questions!"

"That's unfortunate, because I won't be answering them," she sneered.

"You say that now," Draco whispered, looming over her. "But I have ways of making you talk."

Hermione bit back a moan, her lip caught between her teeth, and Draco gave her a devilish smirk before kissing her cheek and straightening.

"I'm gonna go see how the little clots are doing," he announced. "I'll leave you lot to chat."

"Don't call them that," Hermione admonished, pretending to yawn as she waited for her blush to fade.

"I'll be out there if you need me," Draco promised, completely ignoring her reprimand, and ducked out the door leaving the Golden Trio alone.

* * *

"So, how are you?" Harry asked, taking a seat across from her on the end of Theo's bed.

"Exhausted. How are you?"

"Same," he shrugged. "It doesn't even seem real yet."

Hermione nodded slowly, then turned her attention to Ron. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged moodily, his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on the floor.

"Ron," she crawled out from under the quilt and reached for his hand. "Please, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," he grunted, taking a half step back. "It's over. We won, He's gone. What else is there to say?"

"Ron, your brot-"

"NO!" he barked suddenly, making Hermione scurry back to sit against the headboard, her knees pulled up to her chest. "That's it! It's over!"

"Ron," Harry spoke calmly, taking a step towards his friend. "Hermione's just trying to help."

"Then she should have been with us last night, instead of huddled in the fucking dungeons with a bunch of fucking Deatheaters!" Ron shouted.

"Ron, I'm sorry-" Hermione started to apologize, but he simply spoke over her, his tone getting more and more dangerous with each passing second.

"Why would you care about us when your precious ferret is around?!" he sneered, advancing on her angrily. "Look at her, she's even wearing his fucking shirt! A fucking Slytherin shirt! Your precious boyfriend and his precious house of fucking snakes just killed my brother, and you strut around wearing their colours like a goddamned fucking trophy!?"

"Oi! That's enough!" Harry stepped between them, pushing Ron back a step when he noticed Hermione cowering. "You're angry, I get it, but you can't take that out on Hermione. That's not fair and you know it."

"Of course you're on her side," Ron pushed him away. "You're always on her bloody side!"

"There are no sides, Ron," Harry argued. "Now you need to take a breath and calm down, alright? Malfoy helped us, remember?"

"Sod off," Ron turned away angrily. "I didn't come down to this dingy, godforsaken pit just so you two could gang up on on me."

"Nobody is ganging up on you! Hermione was just trying to ask how you're doing and _you_ went after _her_!"

"Stop yelling," Hermione begged quietly. "Please stop yelling."

"If she wanted to know how I was doing, she should have come up to the tower with us and been there last night, instead of running off like a fucking traitor!" Ron yelled.

"You can't be serious!?" Harry demanded. "All the times that she's saved your arse and you call her a traitor because she spent the hardest night of her life with her boyfriend?! A boyfriend who betrayed his entire family to save her, I might add. Maybe she needed to be down here, did you think about that?"

"Please stop," Hermione pleaded again, retreating to the farthest corner of the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands clamped over her ears like a child listening to their parents fight. "Please."

Harry continued to shout, however, all his attention focussed on putting Ron in his place. "Did you think about the fact that we're all hurting and maybe she needed Malfoy more than you needed her? And if you really needed her so desperately, maybe you should have gone looking last night, instead of screaming at her now!"

"I didn't think I needed to!" Ron snapped. "I thought she cared enough about my family to know that we needed her, seeing as my brother died!"

"So did I!" Harry bellowed, stepping closer and closer to Ron. "And so did Colin and Lavender and Tonks and Remus! We're all grieving Ron, it doesn't give you an excuse to yell at Hermione! And it definitely doesn't give you an excuse to call her a traitor!"

"WHY ARE YOU TAKING HER SIDE?!"

"THERE ARE NO SIDES!"

"STOP!" Hermione screamed, scrambling off the bed and into the bathroom in a panic.

Harry immediately turned away from Ron and rushed to the door, but she had already locked it behind her and while she had forgotten her wand on the bed in her rush to get away from them, he didn't think it would help matters if he forced his way inside.

"Hermione," he tapped softly at the door, his voice full of remorse. "I'm sorry. Please open the door."

"What the hell is going on in here?" Theo Nott appeared in the doorway suddenly, an annoyed look on his face. "I can hear you all the way in the third year dorms."

Under his breath Ron began snarling something about Deatheaters not being able to keep their noses out, but Theo ignored him and focussed his attention on Harry, who was crouched in front of the door. "Potter, what are you doing?"

"Hermione locked herself in there," he explained worriedly, before turning to snarl at his friend. "Merlin, Ron, you just had to yell at her, didn't you?"

"Me?! You're the one who started yelling! I was just trying to make a fucking point!"

"Okay, you were both yelling." Theo tried to mediate, figuring that punching the Gryffindors in the teeth would only cause more problems. "And it's obviously not going well, so why don't you both shut up and focus on trying to get Granger out of the bathroom?"

"If she can't be bothered worrying about me, I won't be bothered worrying about her," Ron crossed his arms stubbornly. "She's just looking for attention."

"This whole row started _because_ she was worrying about you, you knob!" Harry cried.

"Hey!" Draco barked, storming into the room with a murderous look on his face. "Shut up, both of you! You're scaring the first years!"

"Not just the first years," Theo offered. "Granger locked herself in the bathroom."

"She what?!" Draco pushed past his roommate and the arguing Gryffindors towards the door, fighting between his need to kill the git that had sent his girlfriend into hiding and his need to make sure she was alright.

"She just ran in there and locked the door," Harry explained, glaring angrily at Ron.

"Hermione," Draco knocked softly, pressing his ear to the door. "Hermione, love, can you open the door?"

"This is your fault," Ron sneered at Harry. "You should have just let her hide down here with her fucking Deatheater friends!"

" _My_ fault!?" Harry cried. "You're the one who started screaming at her!"

"Oi, you two, can it!" Draco shouted behind him, silencing the boys for at least a moment. He pressed his ear to the door again and heard the faintest sobs on the other side.

"Stop. Make it stop. Make it stop."

"Right, you two, out!" Draco jumped into action, shoving the Gryffindors towards the door. "Go scream at each other in your own dorms."

"Get the fuck off me!" Ron bellowed, shoving Draco back.

"Weasley, don't test me," Draco snarled, itching to draw his wand and banish the ginger before he could upset Hermione any more.

"Okay, everyone needs to _calm down_ ," Theo intervened again, stepping between Ron and Draco. "None of this is going to get Granger out of the bathroom, nor is it going to solve centuries of House rivalry, so let's go."

Before anyone could argue with him, he took Ron and Harry by their arms and pulled them into the corridor, silencing the room behind him.

* * *

On the other side of the door Hermione sat with her knees tucked up to her chest and her hands clamped over her ears, on the verge of hyperventilating as she fought against the noises and images that flooded her mind.

"Stop," she panted mechanically, unable to stop. "Stop. Stop. Stop."

"Hermione, love, listen to me. I need you to open the door and let me in." Draco pleaded with her from the other side of the door, but she could barely hear him. All she heard were the screams- hers and Draco's and Harry's and Ron's and George's and Percy's and everybody else that had been at Hogwarts that night- they ran on a loop in her mind, swallowing everything else.

"Stop," she sobbed even more desperately and Draco felt his heart rise up into his throat.

"Baby, listen, I'm going to open the door," he warned, deciding it was best just to force his way in. "Okay, it's just me. You're okay."

Muttering a quick 'alohomora', he turned the handle and slowly began pushing it open, knowing that she was leaning against it.

"No! Stop!" Hermione choked, scrambling across the floor in a panic.

Draco spoke softly, crouching down and placing his wand carefully on the floor before reaching out to her. "Baby, listen, it's just me. No one else is here, you're safe."

"Please don't," Hermione sobbed, pressing herself into a corner just like she had the night after they escaped the Manor. "Please don't."

"Hermione." Draco's voice cracked as he took in the broken girl in front of him, her eyes red with tears and wide with panic, her entire body shaking as she tried to breath. "Hermione listen to me. You're safe. It's just us, just Hermione and Draco. No one else. No one's going to hurt you."

She shook her head vigorously, unable to speak through her gasps now.

"Hermione, look at me," Draco ordered, his voice still soft and calm, but stern. "Baby, look at me, please. Please, love."

When he put his hand on her arm and she flinched he felt his heart clench, but he knew that she needed him to push on.

"Shh, it's just me," he reassured her. "You're okay, love. It's just me."

Ignoring her attempts to get away from him and her heaving sobs, Draco pulled her into his lap and held her tightly, one hand keeping both of hers still so that she couldn't hurt herself and the other cradling her her head.

"You're okay," he repeated, barely holding back his own tears as he rocked her back and forth like a child. "You're okay, I've got you. You're okay, love."

"The shouting!" Hermione finally gasped between sobs and while she wasn't fighting against him anymore, Draco knew that he still hadn't gotten her back quite yet.

"No one's shouting anymore," he promised, stroking her hair. "There isn't going to be any more shouting, you're okay. You just need to take deep breaths, love. In and out."

His legs went numb long before she calmed down, but Draco didn't care, he just needed her to be okay.

"I'm sorry," Hermione choked eventually, her voice still rough with emotion.

Draco hushed her immediately, but she pushed on, finally looking at him.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm sorry you keep having to take care of me and I'm sorry I'm such a mess and-"

Draco cut her off with a kiss before she could pick up speed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

"First of all," he rested his forehead against hers, his thumb stroking her cheek softly. "You have absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry for. Second, you're not a mess. And lastly, I'm perfectly happy to take care of you, seeing as how I'm your boyfriend and you've taken care of me Merlin only knows how many times."

"It's not the same," she shook her head remorsefully.

"You're right, I was far nastier to you," Draco agreed. "I believe there were quite a few times when you had to disarm me."

He smirked as a hint of a smile appeared on her lips, then frowned when her mouth dropped again.

"I don't have my wand," she realized, looking around frantically.

"You left it on the bed, but mine is over there if you want it," Draco nodded towards the door. "You don't need it, though, you're safe."

Hermione took a shaky breath and nodded, taking his hand and threading their fingers together.

"What happened, love?" Draco finally asked, hoping she had calmed down enough to tell him.

"Ron was angry with me- because I was here, instead of in the tower," she explained quietly. "He said you were all Deatheaters and that I was a traitor-"

Tears began to gather in her eyes once more and Draco could tell that she was starting to get worked up again, not having fully calmed down from the first panic attack, so he rested his forehead against hers again and continued stroking her cheek.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Just take a breath."

She nodded and did as he said, taking a second to compose herself before continuing. "Harry told him to stop, he said that you were on our side and Ron was just taking his anger over Fred out on me, but that made him angrier and they started shouting and I just- they wouldn't stop and I couldn't breathe."

Her breathing had become shallow again and Draco was quick to assure her that he understood and that it was over now.

"They wouldn't stop," she repeated, fighting against the tiniest of sobs as she buried her face in Draco's neck.

"I know," he stroked her hair. "But they're gone now. There won't be any more shouting."

Hermione nodded, slowly relaxing against him, but he could feel the wetness on his neck as she began to again.

"I feel like I'm going mad," she sobbed. "Like I'm actually losing my mind."

"You're not," Draco promised, holding her even tighter. "It's going to get better. We're all going to get better, it just takes time."

* * *

They stayed curled up on the bathroom floor until Theo poked his head inside, a roll of parchment in his hand.

"Alright?" he asked carefully, not wanting to startle them and send Hermione into another panic attack.

"Yeah," Draco assured him. "Yeah, we're alright."

"McGonagall wants to see you in her office whenever you're up to it, then," he said, setting the parchment on the sink before leaving them alone again.

"I don't have any clothes," Hermione squeaked when the door had shut, startling Draco ever so slightly.

"Sorry?" he looked down at her, frowning.

"My- my clothes from yesterday, they're barely even clothes anymore," she explained. "I don't have anything to wear."

"Well, oddly enough, I've heard that you're a rather talented witch." He smirked in that special way that made her want to smack him and jump him all at once, and Hermione felt her own lips pull into a tiny smile.

"I'm sure if you wrack that pretty little head of yours," Draco continued, giving one of her curls a tug for emphasis. "You'll be able to come up with some sort of spell to transfigure yourself a pair of jeans."

She laughed softly and got to her feet, offering her hand to him. "You haven't been able to feel your legs in ages, have you?"

"Nope."

Hermione grinned and pulled his arm around her shoulders, attempting to hold him up until he got feeling back- she wasn't much help, however, and they both ended up falling onto his bed in a tangled heap, shaking with laughter.

 **A/N: I just wanted to send a quick shout out to all of you, my fabulous readers, especially those of you who hate your jobs because I have had the shittiest fucking week in the hell hole hotel I work in and I think we all need some appreciation on days like that. So for all of you who hate your jobs and work with a bunch of cockwombles of twats, Fucking power to you for sticking it out and not punching them in the face every time you get the urge. You deserve awards for that shit! Also, thanks for reading :)**

 **-Emma**


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone congregated in the Great Hall for breakfast as though it were any other day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sitting at their house tables and speaking amongst themselves quietly. The monotony of it all was almost eerie and Hermione found herself clinging tightly to Draco's hand as they stepped through the arched doorway.

"Alright, love?" he asked softly.

"Fine. Just... it seems wrong, doesn't it?"

Draco nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. Everything had changed, and yet here they were beginning their day like every other they had spent in the castle.

"Are you going to sit with Potter and them?" he asked, nodding towards the crowded Gryffindor table.

"I- I'd rather sit with you," Hermione admitted, shaking her head. "I don't know what to say to them."

"You're cute when you blush," Draco smirked. "Come on."

He led her towards the Slytherin table, which was fuller than he would have expected, but still not as full as it had been the previous day. They sat down between Theo and Blaise, and Hermione's blush deepened as she tried to ignore the looks she was getting from the rest of the table. Draco, never one to beat around the bush, glared at the table sharply and draped an arm around her, pulling her tight against him.

"Right, you've probably noticed, Granger and I are dating," he said matter-of-factly. "Have been for over a year and we're very happy together. So if you have a problem, keep it to yourself."

Nervous silence fell over the table for a moment as Draco seemed to glare at each and every one of his remaining housemates one by one, daring them to say something. When nobody did, he nodded succinctly and turned to Blaise, who seemed to be biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Have you got something to say?"

"You're just too adorable!" the Italian man gushed. "You think you're so terrifying, but you're really a little kitten hissing at its shadow."

Theo and Hermione both burst out laughing at this observation, and while Draco didn't seem to find it quite so funny, his lips at least twitched upward momentarily.

"I was a Deatheater," he argued. "I _am_ terrifying!"

"Puh-lease," Astoria Greengrass sat down across from them, sniffing at Draco disdainfully. "You're about as terrifying as a Niffler."

"I am not!"

"I would have said a Pygmy Puff," Daphne admitted.

"You're all off your heads," Draco answered broodily. "I'm Draco Malfoy, people shake when they hear my name."

"Only one person," Blaise nodded towards Hermione suggestively, making the Gryffindor blush once again.

"Get your mind out of the sewers, Zabini," Daphne frowned distastefully.

"Yes, please," Hermione echoed the sentiment, then turned to her boyfriend. "Draco, you can be very intimidating when you need to be, but we both know you're not like that usually. You're loving and kind and wonderful."

This description seemed to appease Draco's ego, as he gave his girlfriend a warm smile and a kiss to the temple, prompting gagging noises from his friends.

"How old are you?" Astoria rolled her eyes at the boys. "Honestly! It's a wonder any witch has ever deigned to sleep with either of you."

"Um, Stor-" Draco started to point out that _she_ had been one of those witches, but a kick to the shin silenced him before he could say another word. "OW!"

"Sorry," she smiled sweetly. "My foot slipped."

As more people trickled into the hall, they all started to eat, making awkward small talk over their breakfasts and doing their best to avoid the dirty looks that constantly seemed to be sent towards the table.

"Just ignore them," Draco ordered the younger snakes. "We haven't done anything wrong, and we deserve to be here as much as anyone else."

"Yeah," Blaise nodded enthusiastically. "And besides, we've got Granger now. That's gotta buy us some credibility."

"She's not a commodity to be had," Draco grumbled testily.

"Of course not," Blaise agreed. "She's a human being- but we win, because we got her. You're officially a snake now, Hermione."

"Well that is what my shirt says," the brunette smirked, making the rest of the table gawk at her for a moment, before smiling.

"I knew there was something different," Daphne said. "Green is your colour, Granger."

"That's what I've been telling her," Draco smiled proudly.

"You just like seeing your name on her back," Astoria rolled her eyes. "Misogynist."

Hermione couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped her at that, never having heard another witch express feminist views before. The two girls shared an understanding smile and turned back to their breakfasts, leaving the men at the table thoroughly confused.

"You seem really comfortable being surrounded by snakes," Daphne frowned at Hermione over her tea after a moment, studying the curly haired girl carefully.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked, bristling dangerously.

"I don't mean it in a bad way," she assured him, rolling her eyes a little. "I just mean most people would be wary of sitting here- most people _are._ I mean, you see how people are looking at us. I just would have thought this would be more... awkward."

"I stopped seeing people by their houses a long time ago," Hermione shrugged. "I mean, how could I be with Draco if I still believed in stupid house rivalries? And besides, I was almost sorted into Slytherin."

"WHAT?!" All five of her companions turned to face her, dropping their utensils and mugs in shock and making Hermione shrink down in her seat nervously.

"You never told me that," Draco stared at her accusingly.

"It never came up," she shrugged. "The hat seriously considered Ravenclaw as well, but in the end it was Gryffindor. I didn't see why the other options mattered."

"Blimey, you really are a snake!" Blaise laughed. "That's brilliant!"

"And very handy," Theo agreed. "We could really use some fresh blood. All that inbreeding is really starting to screw us, just look at Blaise."

"OI!"

A ripple of laughter went through the group again, and they settled into small talk once more, giving Draco a chance to prod at Hermione to eat.

"What does this look like?" she asked, waving a piece of toast in his face.

"You've been nibbling at that piece of toast for twenty minutes," he shook his head. "Eat some fruit at least."

Without waiting for an answer, he spooned some onto her plate and speared a strawberry with her fork, holding it up to her mouth expectantly.

"I'm not a child," she sneered, snatching the utensil from his hand and setting it back on the plate. "I can feed myself."

"I've yet to see evidence of that," Draco argued.

"Fuck off," Hermione grumbled testily.

"I love you too," he kissed her temple.

"Well, aren't you two just sickening," Ginny Weasley droned, forcing her way onto the bench between them.

"Hey!" Hermione smiled warmly at the ginger witch, her little spat with Draco completely forgotten, and pulled her into a hug. "How are you?"

Ginny shrugged sadly and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder, breathing a heavy sigh. How do you describe the unbearable sadness of losing a brother, while at the same time experiencing pure and unadulterated joy at finally being safe?

"I know," Hermione stroked her hair, understanding exactly what her friend was going through. "It's going to be okay, though. We'll get through this- together."

"Yeah," Ginny nodded, sitting up straight again. "I just wanted to see how you are. Harry said you weren't well this morning."

At the mention of Potter, Draco emitted a low growl earning a glare from his girlfriend and a vaguely confused look from her companion.

"Have you not been fed, Malfoy?" she asked lazily. "Or do you usually express yourself like a wild animal."

"It's a toss-up," Theo offered, not looking up from his breakfast.

"Draco is just being... overprotective," Hermione explained sourly. "Which isn't necessary, because I am fine."

"You locked yourself in a bathroom," her boyfriend grumbled. "That doesn't really scream _fine_."

"Why did you lock yourself in a bathroom?" Ginny asked concernedly. "What happened?"

"Harry and Ron had an argument, and I had a bit of an overreaction."

"A panic attack," Draco corrected. "You had a panic attack."

"Would you like to go sit at the Hufflepuff table?" Hermione glared at her boyfriend. "Because that can be arranged."

Draco raised his hands in surrender and went back to picking at his breakfast moodily, ignoring the smirks on his friend's faces.

"The boys gave you a panic attack?" Ginny frowned. "Oh, that's awful! I'll hex them for you."

"There's no need for hexing," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not like they were _trying_ to give me a panic attack. It was an accident."

Draco started to mutter again, but one look from Hermione was sufficient to quiet him.

"The point is, I'm fine," she insisted. "Don't worry about me."

"You're my best friend, it's my job to worry about you," Ginny frowned.

"Well I'm telling you to take a vacation from it. I'm well looked after."

"Yeah, we're adopting her!" Blaise piped up happily. "See, she's even sporting our Quidditch merchandise."

"Oddly enough, that isn't making me worry less," Ginny said, though she chuckled as she did.

"It's my turn to worry about you," Hermione hugged her tightly. "What do you need? What can I do?"

"Nothing," Ginny sighed. "It's nice just talking. We're going back home today... you're not going to come, though, are you?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously, looking at her hands as she shook her head.

"I get it," Ginny assured her, forcing the sadness from her voice. "Really, I do. You need to be with Draco. If Harry wasn't coming home with us, I might stay too."

"Your home _is_ Harry's home," Hermione smiled sadly.

"It used to be yours too." Ginny pointed out, then shook her head and forced another smile. "I get it, it's okay. You'll come see us though, right?"

"Of course! I'll come every day if it will help you, I promise."

"Good," Ginny smiled again. "Because I don't know what I'd do if I was stuck in that houseful of boys again. I've missed having another girl around."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione cringed. "I hate it when you say things like that. Your 'girl chats' always end with me knowing far more about the boy I think of as a brother than I've ever needed to."

"Well now I won't have to tell you intimate details about Harry," Ginny smirked. "You've got a year's worth of Malfoy to fill me in on."

Both girls laughed as the blood seemed to drain from Draco's face.

"And on that note," Ginny smirked and got to her feet again. "I'm going to go and smack Ron and Harry around for being wretched. I'll owl when we get home."

* * *

When it seemed that no one else was going to be joining them, Professor McGonagall stood and called the room to attention. When it was quiet, she explained that Hogwarts was going to be remaining open for as long as was needed and that the Heads of House would be working tirelessly to find the families of their students. This prompted a round of nervous whispers at the Slytherin table, as the man who had been their Head of House for their entire school careers was now dead, and his replacement hadn't been seen since the evacuation.

"All of your professors will be available to help find family," the Headmistress spoke over the whispers, looking directly at the Slytherin table. "We will be coming around to common rooms to speak with each and every one of you about your individual circumstances. In the meantime, I would ask that all who are able aid in putting our school back to rights. The damage is extensive, as you all know, and it will require each and every one of us to complete repairs. Professors Flitwick and Synystra will be overseeing this work for the time being."

She went on to remind everyone to visit Madame Pomfrey if they had sustained any injuries, even if they seemed minor, and request that anyone who could offer the Healer their assistance do so. When she had finished the elder witch returned to the table where her fellow professors had gathered, all poring over rolls of parchment with varying expressions of worry and anxiety on their faces.

"I'm going to go see what I can do," Hermione said, getting up from the table.

"I'll come with you," Astoria got to her feet, surprising everyone. "I want to start getting everyone home. These guys need their parents, not a bunch of fucked up teenagers... no offence guys."

"Why would we take offence?" Theo rolled his eyes. "You're including yourself in that description, though, right?"

"Of course," she nodded. "I mean I'm not as fucked up as, say, Draco and Blaise, but I've certainly got my issues."

"What's wrong with me?!" Blaise scoffed.

"Darling, there aren't enough hours in the day to answer that question," Astoria said, her voice sickly sweet. "Come on, Granger."

 **A/N: Right, so I'm going to be really honest with you guys. I've been working on this story for upwards of six months now and I've been hitting a wall with it for the last five. When I first started all of this, I had a really clear idea of where it was going and how I wanted everything to end, but the more I've written the farther from that original plan I've gone and I really don't have one now. I've written about fifteen chapters for this story, but I'm not a huge fan of any of them and I just can't seem to find a new angle to go on with. So, really, this is a warning that I might not finish this story. Should inspiration strike, I will of course follow it's lead, but I feel like a warning is necessary. I hate getting emotionally attached to a story, only to have it be left unfinished and dangling in the ether with no warning or explanation, so I figured I'd at least be able to give you that. I will be publishing the chapters I have written, and I'll try to give you at least a semblance of closure, but I apologize in advance if it's just nothing but absolute shit. I wish I had more to offer :(**

 **No hard feelings if you want to rip the band-aid off now and simply part ways knowing that Draco and Hermione lived and the Slytherins are taking a liking to her.**

 **-Emma**


	4. Chapter 4

While Astoria and Daphne tackled the job of tracking down their housemates' families- many of whom were scattered across Europe in hiding- Draco, Hermione, Theo and Blaise were sent to start clearing the damages and doing repairs on the building.

In that first week they didn't leave Hogwarts at all, spending all their time trying to return the castle to its former, pristine condition, working until they were too exhausted to think about anything but sleep.

And then the funerals started.

A year's worth of fallen friends to be remembered and Hermione insisted on going to each and every one.

Fred Weasley's had been the most difficult. Draco had gone with her, of course, and it broke his heart watching her fall apart with the rest of the Weasley family. George had obviously taken the loss harder than anyone else and his elder brothers had been forced to hold him down as his twin was lowered into the ground, while his sister and mother sobbed loudly in what Draco assumed was an attempt to drown out his screams. Hermione had done her best to comfort the family, holding Ginny's hand while she sobbed into Potter's chest and repeatedly trying to do absolutely anything for Ron, despite the vapid responses she continually got. In the end, Percy had stepped in and relieved Hermione of his younger brother's care, after hearing him call her a 'Deatheater's whore'.

"He doesn't mean it," he had tried to apologize. "He just-"

"I know he doesn't," Hermione had insisted. "He's just hurting. If yelling at me helps him feel even a little bit better, I can take it. I'm a big girl."

Percy had simply nodded sadly before escorting his brother back to the house. Ginny had insisted that Hermione and Draco go back to the castle after that, promising that they would be okay.

Hermione had been almost catatonic for the rest of the night.

* * *

Ron hadn't attended any more funerals after his brother's, instead taking solace in a bottle of firewhiskey and getting more aggressive and volatile with each passing day according to Harry.

It didn't matter how adversely the funerals affected Hermione, though, or how much Draco worried and begged her not to go- especially when he was unable to accompany her to most of them, for fear of upsetting others in attendance- every morning she pulled on the simple black dress she had borrowed from Ginny and met Harry in the entryway so that they could attend the day's memorials together.

And when she returned each night, her eyes red and puffy, hair falling out of the braid she had put it in that morning after a day's worth of anxious tugging and emotionally shattered, Draco stood waiting for her- usually with Blaise and Theo at his side- ready to try and help her forget the awfulness of the day over dinner, sharing their own exploits trying to repair the castle.

Even though they had all only been together for a few weeks, it was like they had become a family and Hermione was surprised to realize how she had never felt she belonged more than she did sitting in the Slytherin common room with Draco and his friends.

"It just feels right," she tried to explain to Harry as they sat in the garden at the Burrow after yet another funeral. "The way you feel here, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm not quite sure I understand it, but I can't argue how good the feeling is."

"How's Ron?" Hermione asked, looking back at the house. She hadn't spoken to him since his brother's funeral, as he inevitably shouted profanities at her whenever they crossed paths, but that didn't stop her from worrying about him- he was still one of her best friends, after all.

"He's... I don't know," Harry shook his head. "I keep trying to get him to talk, but he just won't let me in. He's been spending a lot of time with George, though, which seems like it should be a good thing."

"It should be," Hermione nodded.

"I think the empty bottles of firewhiskey I keep tripping over would beg to differ, though," he frowned.

"How's Ginny?" Hermione changed the subject. "We talked at Lavender's funeral the other day, but I feel like she's holding back."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "She's worried about putting more stress on us after everything."

"Did you tell her she's insane?"

"I did," he laughed. "It took a few tries, but we finally had it out and we're good now. You might have to push her a little to get her to give in, though."

"I will," Hermione pursed her lips.

"Here's your chance," Harry smiled as his girlfriend approached them. "Hey, Gin."

"Hey," Ginny smiled warmly at him. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hi," Hermione got to her feet and pulled the redhead into a hug. "Harry, bugger off. Gin and I need to have a chat."

"That doesn't sound good," Ginny frowned.

"She's unhappy with you," Harry explained.

"I'm not unhappy," Hermione corrected . "I'm _worried_. Now bugger off."

Harry raised his eyebrows in a 'you know I'm right' look, then gave each girl a quick kiss on the cheek and made his way back up to the house.

As soon as he was gone Hermione pulled Ginny to sit on the bench beside her and took both her hands, squeezing them tightly.

"Listen to me," she ordered before Ginny could start. "You, Ginevra Weasley, are one of my best friends in the entire world, you are my sister, and I will not have you keeping things from me because you're worried, because that makes _me_ worry about _you_ and it just turns into a vicious circle of worry and unhappiness in which Harry ends up confused and worried and stuck in the middle not knowing which way is up."

"You've always had a knack for bluntness," Ginny chuckled. "I'm _fine_ Hermione."

"You and I both know that's not true," Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, none of us are fine. You lost a brother, I know how much you must be hurting right now."

"Sure," she shrugged, all signs of laughter gone. "But I'm dealing with it. You have far more important things to worry about than me."

"Ginny, there is nothing more important to me than taking care of my family, and you are an enormous part of that."

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny sighed heavily. "Harry's told me what happened- all of it. We've talked through every day from the night you left to the night you came back. I know what you've been through."

"I haven't been through any more than Harry has," Hermione insisted. "And none of that matters. We have to take care of each other. How can I let you worry about what I've been through when you won't let me worry about what you're going through?"

Ginny stared at her, opening her mouth to argue and closing it again quickly, giving Hermione a chance to continue.

"Listen Gin, I love that you're worried about me, but you really don't need to be. Draco and I, we worry about each other more than enough, you need to worry about _you_ and you need to let _me_ worry about you too. We're all fucked up, but the only way we're going to get un-fucked up is by taking care of each other and we can only do that if we talk to each other- _honestly_."

"Fine, if I can worry about you, you can worry about me," Ginny agreed grudgingly. "But you have to promise to put yourself first. Hermione, I know you don't want to admit the extent of what you're dealing with, but you need to. You went through so much more than me-"

"Ginny, you can't compare our situations," Hermione interrupted. "And you can't quantify them and weigh them against each other. We all went through hell, and I promise you that I'm not minimizing that, I'm not in denial about how messed up I am, but you can't be either. We have to be honest with each other, that's what best friends do."

"Honesty goes both ways," Ginny pointed out.

"It does," Hermione smiled softly. "So let's talk- about real things, not these stupid fake discussions about nothing we've been having. How are you, _really_?"

* * *

When she met Draco in the entryway that night, it was the first time in weeks that Hermione didn't feel like she might shatter at the sight of him. Her talk with Ginny had taken off a weight she hadn't even realized she was carrying and she almost felt happy- a pleasant change from the anxiety and emotional pain that had plagued her every waking hour lately.

"Hey," Draco smiled and pulled her into a hug, immediately noticing that she wasn't as tense as usual. "How was your day?"

"It was... nice," she smiled. "Ginny and I talked."

"Like, actually talked?" he asked hopefully, leading her into the great hall.

"Yeah. Deepest darkest secrets and all that." Hermione nodded, noting the fond smile on Draco's face as they both recalled the nights they'd spent sharing their own 'deepest darkest secrets'.

"Sexy," Blaise smirked as Hermione sat down across from him, having caught only the mention of dark secrets. "Whose dark secrets were you collecting, exactly, and do you want to share any?"

"Not with you she doesn't," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Now, now, maybe our lovely Hermione needs a confidant," Blaise argued mischievously. "She doesn't tell you everything."

"Yes she does," Draco waved him off and turned back to Hermione. "Eat something."

"I was sharing deep dark secrets with Ginny," she explained to Blaise. "And what does it look like I'm doing, Draco?" She grabbed a roll and waved it in his face before tearing off a corner and nibbling at it.

"Eat more," he frowned. "Preferably something that used to be an animal and can provide protein."

Hermione rolled her eyes and put some salad on her plate, then turned to address the rest of the table. "How was everything here?"

"Not too bad. No violent outbursts or breakdowns," Astoria filled her in. "A couple more kids went home, but they were all in Hufflepuff."

"Draco blew up your precious library," Theo offered, not even bothering to hide the smug look on his face as he ratted his friend out.

"You did what?!" Hermione wheeled on her boyfriend, a horrified look on her face.

"He's exaggerating," Draco immediately tried to placate her. "I facilitated a _minor_ explosion in the restricted section, and there was barely any damage."

"You took out an entire wall," Daphne scoffed.

"Draco!"

"It wasn't an important wall!" he argued.

"I don't even know how to answer that," Hermione shook her head. " _All_ walls are important!"

"Some are arguably more important that others." Blaise chimed in lazily, then saw the look on Hermione's face and paled. "But, you know, still important."

"Smooth," Theo chuckled at his friend's stuttered retraction while Draco glared at the other man.

"So much for brothers in arms," he muttered.

"Sorry, mate, but she's a lot scarier than you are," Blaise chuckled.

"How can _she_ be scarier than me?!" he demanded. "I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?" Blaise scoffed. "You're forgetting that I've known you since we were four years old. We've been over this, you're a glorified hedgehog. She's Hermione fucking Granger, she can kick anyone's ass and look like a million galleons doing it."

"Oh!" Hermione stifled a laugh, reaching up to stroke her boyfriend's cheek and wipe the brooding frown from his face.

"Oh, for Godric's sakes," Draco tried to pull away from her, but Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him. "I mean, he's not wrong about you, but a hedgehog!? Would you stop laughing?!"

"I'm sorry, love," Hermione bit her cheek in an attempt to sober herself. "You're a very scary hedgehog!"

"Don't patronize me, woman," he grumbled, making everyone laugh even harder. "Eat your food."

Hermione stifled another giggle, then looked at her plate and frowned, noting that Draco had piled as much food as he could onto it, completely burying the reasonable portion of salad she had taken.

"I'm not eating this," she shook her head, looking rather queasy.

"You need to eat," Draco said for the thousandth time. "You're skin and bone."

"I _am_ eating," she growled, scraping most of her plate onto Theo's, leaving only some salad and a bit of chicken.

"Thanks," Theo nodded appreciatively and dug in, ignoring the daggers Draco was shooting at him.

"How's Weasley?" Blaise asked, trying to change the subject before an argument could start.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione shrugged glumly. "He's still not speaking to me."

"But Weaselette is," Theo jumped in quickly. "That's a step up from yesterday."

"And besides," Blaise nodded. "You've got us. We're far better conversationalists- and lovers, if you care to know."

"You know, Blaise, I really don't," she grimaced. "In fact, I already know far too much about your sex life, considering we've only been friends for a few weeks."

"What can I say? I'm a very open person," he shrugged.

"You're a pervert," Daphne corrected. "So, Hermione, will you be joining us tomorrow? Maybe you can keep Draco from blowing up any more walls."

"Colin Creevey's funeral is tomorrow," she shook her head, sobering even more.

"Just the one?" Daphne asked carefully.

Hermione nodded, staring at her plate as she pushed its contents around listlessly.

When she didn't say any more, Theo steered the conversation back to safer waters, telling them about a conversation he'd had with one of the first years still living in the castle. Hermione didn't listen, though, her mind was too busy spinning with the dozens of funerals she'd been to in the past weeks. They all blurred together in a mess of coffins, wails and raised wands, each memory bleeding into the next until she couldn't tell them apart, couldn't even tell if they were old memories or new- the pain was all the same after all.

When Draco took her elbow and helped her up from the table, she hadn't even realized that the rest of the hall had emptied out, too lost in her own thoughts.

"Come on, love," he kissed her temple softly.

"I didn't finish my plate," Hermione said lamely, seeming to still be slightly dazed.

"That's okay," he smiled softly. "I'll get you something later if you want."

He put his arm around her and lead them out of the hall, but instead of heading towards the Slytherin dorms he turned to the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, confused.

"I thought you might want to talk somewhere more private than the common room," Draco explained. "Come on."

Six floors later, they paced back and forth in a dead end hallway waiting for a door to appear.

"Just like old times," Hermione quipped, though her smile didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

"Hopefully this room isn't as cluttered," Draco smirked.

The room they'd been provided with that night was like a miniaturized version of the Gryffindor common room, with a large well-worn sofa sitting in front of a welcoming fire that provided the room with soft, calming light.

Without a word, Draco took her hand and lead her over to the sofa, siting down and pulling her into his lap.

"Tell me," he spoke softly, half order half plea.

"I-I'm just so tired," Hermione sighed raggedly and collapsed against him. "I'm tired of standing in front of coffins, and I'm tired of watching my best friend destroy himself, and I'm tired of all the hurt and pain and suffering. I just want it all to stop."

"It will," Draco rubbed her back comfortingly. "Tomorrow is the last funeral, and then you can move on from that, start moving forward."

"I don't think I'm ever going to move past this," she shook her head, her voice tinged by the vaguest hint of despair.

"You will," Draco promised. "We all will. Its just going to take time. Time and space heals all wounds."

"Time maybe," Hermione allowed. "But there is no space from this. It's everywhere. There's no escaping it. Everyday we eat breakfast in the room where we laid our dead, and we walk through hallways filled with rubble and stained in blood and I can practically see the whole night happening in front of me, over and over and over again."

She started to cry and Draco pulled her tight against his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head gently.

"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's over," he whispered. "It's over now."

He knew what she meant, though. As long as they stayed in the castle, they wouldn't be able to properly heal from what they'd seen that night. They would just keep replaying it over and over, until it swallowed them whole.

"Maybe we should think about leaving," he said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione looked up at him in confusion, wiping her eyes.

"Maybe it would be better if we weren't living here anymore," Draco tried to explain. "You're right, we're surrounded by all these reminders of the awful things that happened to us and to our friends, I feel it too. Maybe it would be better if we found somewhere else. We could get a flat somewhere, a fresh start."

Hermione sniffled and chewed at her bottom lip, a nervous look in her eye.

"What is it, baby?" Draco used his thumb to wipe a few stray tears from her cheek. "Talk to me."

"You want us to move in together?" she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "Unless you don't want to, of course, which I would be perfectly fine with. I just figured you've been staying in the Slytherin dorm every night, so it's practically like we're living together already, and-"

"Okay," Hermione interrupted, placing her hand over his mouth softly before he could start rambling too much.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "I'd like that- having a flat together. Something that's all our own, without any bad memories around every corner. Yeah, love, I really really want to move in with you."

Draco grinned broadly at this and kissed her, one hand cupping her cheek while the other wound into her hair.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too," Hermione breathed, melting into him. "I love you so much Draco Malfoy, it's bloody ridiculous."


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but when she woke she felt more rested than she had in months. This was the first night that she hadn't been woken up by nightmares- be them Draco's, her own, or someone else in the dorm- and she had to admit that it was nice sleeping through the night. Looking around, she realized that they were still in the Room of Requirement and she winced at the thought of how uncomfortable Draco must be, but as she sat up, she saw that he had expanded the sofa to give them ample space and was sleeping so peacefully it almost pained her. She had never seen him look so calm and serene, his hair falling over his eyes handsomely and his lips pressed together in the vaguest hint of a smile- she found herself wishing she had a way to capture this moment forever.

When the camera appeared on the arm of the couch, a gurgle of laughter escaped her and she quickly covered her mouth, biting her knuckles to keep from making any more noise. A quick glance at Draco proved that he had heard nothing, so she thanked the room for its gift and carefully snapped a few photos before setting the camera aside and laying down again, studying his face as he slept.

She had just discovered a scar she'd never noticed before hidden just inside his hairline when Draco's eyes fluttered open, wandering aimlessly for a moment, before focusing on her.

"Hello," he smiled, his voice rough with sleep.

"Hi," Hermione reached out and ran a finger across the newly discovered blemish, taking the opportunity to brush the hair from his face as she did so.

"What are you doing?" Draco frowned, running a hand through her hair.

"You have a scar- _right here_ ," she whispered, tracing the mark softly. "I've never noticed it before."

"It's well hidden," he chuckled. "I forget it's even there most of the time."

"How did you get it?"

He smirked and pulled away from her momentarily to stretch, scrubbing his face with a free hand and stifling a yawn.

"I was trying to make friends with the crown moulding."

"Excuse me?" Hermione frowned.

"In the manor-" He started to explain, but stopped when he felt her breath hitch nervously.

"No," Hermione shook her head and reached out to stroke his cheek again. "Tell me."

"In the library," Draco continued, making sure his tone was light and calm. "The crown moulding is covered in the most intricate carvings, the most prominent of which are dragons."

Hermione's face broke into a knowing smile at this and she cuddled closer to him as he continued.

"So, when I was three years old or so, I thought it would be fun to climb to the ceiling with my father's wand and try to get the dragons to come play with me." Draco's hand trailed up and down her ribs as he spoke, lulling Hermione into an almost hypnotic state. "The ceilings in the library, mind you, are about 10 ft high. They almost meet the bookcases, though, so I figured the easiest way to get up to my new friends would be to climb the shelves."

Hermione shook her head in mock disapproval, her lips pressed together in an attempt to hide her smile.

"So one afternoon, my father left his wand on the dining room table and I took my chance. I snatched it before he could return and made a break for the library, somehow without being detected by my mother or the elves. I was halfway up my chosen bookcase, wand between my teeth, when my father came looking for me and broke my concentration."

"The bastard," Hermione gasped comically.

"I knew you'd see it my way!" Draco grinned. "Anyways, father storms in and scares me half to death, I lose my footing and fall backwards off the shelf. I had planned for this, though, and right underneath me there was a sofa. The only problem with _that_ , was that the sofa was new and still rather... springy?"

"Oh no," Hermione's hand covered her mouth as she bit back a laugh.

"Yeah," he nodded disappointedly. "I bounced right off the sofa and hit the coffee table, and that was how I got the scar. You can go ahead and stop fighting your laughter now."

"I'm sorry," she giggled, tears pricking her eyes from trying to stay silent. "I'm sure that was very traumatic for you."

"Well, it certainly taught me not to use new sofas as landing pads when scaling walls," Draco shrugged, joining in her laughter. "And my father learned not to leave his wand unattended."

"I have to say I'm quite thankful for that," Hermione admitted. "If he hadn't, I get the feeling you wouldn't have made it past childhood."

Draco's head wobbled back and forth in agreement, and Hermione laughed even harder, stopping only when he got up and climbed over her to the floor.

"What are you doing?" she wiped the tears that had slipped from the corner of her eye, turning over to watch him.

"I've missed hearing your laugh." He smiled, then raised the camera she had discarded and snapped a quick series of photos. "I don't ever want to forget what it looks like."

"I had a similar thought," Hermione admitted. "That's how the camera ended up here."

"Taking photographs of me while I was sleeping, Miss Granger?" Draco raised an eyebrow suggestively, making her smile again.

"Maybe."

He grinned and captured her lips with his own, holding the camera out in front of them and snapping a picture.

"That'll be one for the grandkids," he quipped, setting the camera aside and sitting on the sofa again. "So, what was so mesmerizing you felt the need to conjure a camera?"

"You," Hermione sat up beside him, tracing the contours of his face with a featherlight touch. "I'd never seen you look so peaceful."

"I felt peaceful," he smiled. "You didn't have nightmares last night."

"Neither did you," she pointed out, then looked down at his watch and cursed. "I'm supposed to meet Harry in thirty minutes."

"I'll come with you today," Draco said, making sure it didn't sound like an offer. "You said it was a muggle funeral?"

Hermione nodded slowly, all levity from the moments before gone, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"Blaise has a suit I can borrow. Come on." He held out his hand, knowing that she needed his strength to get through this final day. At least he'd seen her smile before they had to face the world again.

* * *

As usual, Hermione ate next to nothing at breakfast, nursing a cup of tea and taking the occasional bite of oatmeal that Draco pushed on her. He didn't mind though, he knew that throughout the day Potter kept an eye on her eating habits, forcing her to swallow enough to keep her from wasting away completely.

When they met the bespectacled wizard in the entrance that morning, the two men exchanged nods of greeting, but not much else. Harry chatted aimlessly to Hermione as they walked through the grounds to the apparition point, telling her how much better Ginny was after they had talked the day before and repeating one of Mrs. Weasley's many requests for her to come stay with them.

It was at the mention of staying somewhere that Draco remembered their conversation the previous night- how he had asked her to move in with him. She had said yes, and he had never felt happier, but now he wondered if she had really meant it, or if she had just been desperate to get away from the castle and all the pain it brought. The thought had barely had a chance to take root in his mind, however, when she leaned into his side and squeezed his hand tightly.

"I meant it," she whispered softly, ignoring the confused look Harry was giving them.

"You know," Draco mused, trying not to sound too relieved or surprised, "that whole mind-reading thing you do is a little creepy."

"The word you're looking for is endearing," she corrected lightly.

"I don't think so."

"Sorry, but what did you mean?" Harry asked, eyeing the couple skeptically.

"Draco and I have decided to find a flat together," Hermione answered, an excited smile on her face. "We think it would be best for both of us if we weren't in the castle all the time, it just holds too much pain."

Harry nodded slowly, his stride never wavering as they continued towards the gates, though he was obviously mulling over this decision like any brother would.

"Well," he finally spoke. "I think that's great. You really should get out of the castle, I can see how much it affects you."

Had she not been so in tune with him, Hermione might not have noticed the breath of relief that escaped Draco's lips, but nothing he did ever got past her, and she gave his hand another encouraging squeeze.

"I'm glad you think so," she smiled at Harry. "It would be rather difficult moving without the help of my best friend. Sofas don't carry themselves, you know."

* * *

It didn't occur to Hermione that this would be her first time in the Muggle world since being in hiding until they were stood in the Leaky Cauldron, about to walk out to the street.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, putting a hand on her elbow when she froze.

She gave a shaky nod, staring at the exit with trepidation, and he gave her arm an encouraging squeeze.

"We've got some time before the service starts, do you want to have a cup of tea?"

"No," she shook her head quickly.

There were already people watching them, giving her and Draco dirty looks, inching forward to speak with Harry, if they stayed much longer she would be forced to interact with them.

"No, we should go," she said, this time with a bit more force. "I'll be fine."

Without waiting for either of them, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the noises, scents and general chaos of London assaulting her senses immediately.

"Wow," Draco looked around in astonishment, lacing his fingers through Hermione's- as much for her benefit as his. "What are those?"

He pointed to the cars whipping past them on the road, all in a rush to get where they were going, horns honking and brakes squealing.

"Cars," Harry chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Those are cars, mate. I'll grab us a cab."

"What?"

"We're going to take one of the cars to the funeral," Hermione explained. "There aren't any apparition sites near the church."

"Bloody hell," Draco watched with rapt attention as Harry put his arm out, bringing one of the black cars to a stop right in front of them.

"Come on," Hermione tugged at his hand. "You'll like it, I promise."

Draco didn't like it one bit, complaining bitterly the whole time about how he far preferred the train if he had to ride in a metal contraption. When they came to a stop a block or so from the church, Hermione almost thought he was going to kiss the ground when they got out. Thankfully he restrained himself, but he made a point of saying they would be finding a way to apparate back after the service.

* * *

Harry was asked to join the family at the cemetery after the church service, so Hermione and Draco were left to make their own way home. Wanting to stay away from the castle for just a while longer, Draco thought it might be nice to spend a bit more time in Muggle London.

"Why don't we grab lunch?" he suggested. "Away from prying eyes and overly loud whispers."

"That would be nice," Hermione agreed. "Would you like me to hail a cab?"

"I will never get into one of those vile contraptions again," Draco grimaced. "I'd rather get through life splinching myself every time I apparate."

"You're being a tad dramatic, don't you think?"

"Not at all. What are you in the mood for?"

They ended up at a small cafe a few blocks over, where Draco was introduced to cappuccinos and paninis, both of which he was immediately fond of.

"So, about last night," Draco began as they ate, figuring it would be best to clear the air right away.

"I meant what I said," Hermione assured him again, reaching across the table to take his hand. "I don't want to stay at the Burrow and I certainly don't want to be on my own. I want to live with you."

"I just wanted to be sure that you were sure," he smiled. "And for the record, I want to live with you too."

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," Hermione mumbled, no longer looking at him.

"Why in Salazar's name, would I not want to live with you?" Draco scoffed.

"Because I'm a mess!"

"Ah, the crazy reason," he nodded sarcastically. "Hermione, you are not-"

"-Do not say that I'm not a mess," she interrupted venomously. "Don't lie to me like that. We both know that I am!"

"Okay, fine. You're a bit of a mess, but guess what?"

"What?"

"I could not give less of a fuck about that because, for one thing, I'm a mess too," Draco said, getting up from the table and crouching in front of her. "And for another, I am so bloody in love with you that I can't even find the space in my mind to think about anything else. It's just a constant loop of, 'sweet Merlin, I am in love with this woman!'"

"You're ridiculous," Hermione shook her head, giggling slightly at the declaration despite her very real concerns.

"So are you, if you think I wouldn't want to live with you." He kissed her forehead softly before returning to his seat and taking her hand again, a calm, excited smile on his face. "So, now that we've gotten our crazy thoughts out of the way, shall we have a serious talk about this?"

"I thought we already were."

"No, we were getting our completely unfounded fears out of the way," Draco explained flippantly. "Now we can actually discuss where we would like to go and how soon we would like to go there."

"Soon" Hermione answered immediately. "I want to move soon. You're right about the castle making things worse, I realized that after sleeping so well last night."

"Me too," Draco admitted. "So we'll move soon. Where would you like to live?"

"Where would _you_ like to live?"

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second," Hermione insisted childishly.

"Really?" he laughed. "Okay, how about this- would you like to find a wizard or muggle flat?"

"You would move into a muggle flat?" Hermione gaped at him, obviously shocked.

"If that's what you want," he shrugged easily. "If that's what's going to help you."

Hermione chewed at her lip nervously and Draco found himself smiling. "You're adorable when you do that."

"Do what?" she frowned.

"Bite your lip while you let your brain spin in circles that lead to nowhere. You'd like a muggle flat, wouldn't you?"

"I don't know about muggle," Hermione smiled sheepishly. "But it might be nice to find something outside of Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley- away from all the prying eyes."

"It's settled, then. We'll find a nice wizard flat all our own in a muggle-ish neighbourhood," Draco grinned. "How do we find a nice muggle flat all our own?"

"We need a copy of the Prophet." Hermione chuckled at his blatant cluelessness when it came to daily life outside of the aristocracy, then turned serious again. "And money..."

"Stop making that face," he chastised, noticing the way her face fell at the mention of money.

"I'm not-"

"-You are," Draco cut her off quickly. "And you don't need to. Hermione, you don't need to worry about money- _ever_."

"I can't take your money, Draco." She shook her head, obviously uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

"You're not taking it, I'm _sharing_ it," he argued. "That's what couples do, they share things. What was that thing you were always saying, 'what's mine is yours'?"

"Draco-"

"Don't say anything," he stopped her before she could argue. "Okay, just, let's not worry about that stuff right now. Let's worry about things that we'll agree on."

Hermione looked like she wanted to keep talking about things they didn't agree on, but she nodded and picked at her food quietly, letting the subject drop.

"Is there anywhere specific you'd like to live?" Draco asked, trying to steer them back to even ground.

"Not really," she shrugged easily, then her forehead wrinkled anxiously and she started to fiddle with the sleeves of her jumper. "Just..."

"Just what?" Draco asked gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Not near Hampstead," she whispered.

"Okay," Draco nodded kindly, a knowing look in his eyes.

They were silent for a few minutes, as Hermione picked listlessly at her sandwich and waited for the wave of emotion to pass over her, lost in the recesses of her mind for the time being.

"When you're done, we'll go find a paper and take it back to the castle to look at, okay?" Draco offered, squeezing her hand gently in an attempt to bring her back to the present.

Hermione nodded slowly and took another bite of her lunch, making him smile. At least she would have something in her stomach while she brooded- it was the little things that counted.

* * *

"What you got there, Granger?" Theo dropped onto the sofa unceremoniously, making Hermione bounce off the seat slightly.

"This is a newspaper, Theodore," she rolled her eyes.

"I can see that," he nodded. "It is not, however, the Prophet."

"Very astute," Hermione agreed, not looking up from the periodical.

"Which begs the question, what kind of paper is it?"

"The kind that you read," she answered obviously, quite enjoying leaving the nosey man guessing.

"You're being evasive," Theo complained tried to look over her shoulder.

"You're being nosey," Hermione countered, pushing him away.

"It's in my nature," he smirked. "Come on, let me see."

"She's looking for a flat," Draco strolled into the room, flanked by Daphne and Astoria.

"You're leaving us?!" Daphne gasped.

"You two aren't even staying here anymore," Theo scoffed. "If she's leaving anyone, it's me."

"Nobody is being left," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You will see us _all the time_."

" _Us_?" Theo looked up at Draco expectantly.

"Us," he nodded. "We're looking for a flat together."

"A muggle flat?" Theo frowned, studying Hermione's paper more closely.

"A wizard flat in a muggle area," Draco specified.

"Wow," Theo turned to Hermione, eyes wide. "You really have changed him."

"Not that much," she laughed. "He hasn't embraced muggle transportation as of yet."

"And I won't be any time soon," Draco shook his head. "I spent the last two years trying my best to stay alive, I have no desire to kill myself in one of those horrid contraptions."

"Oh, please," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Cars are perfectly safe- they're definitely safer than brooms."

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that point," Draco shoved Theo out of the way and took his spot next to Hermione, looking over her shoulder at the ads she'd circled. "So, what have we got here?"

"There's a couple flats that we can look at, I'll just have to owl the landlords."

"I can't believe you're ditching me!" Theo carried on, flailing across the sofa dramatically and tossing an arm across his eyes.

Draco patted him on the shoulder absentmindedly, not really caring about his friend's dramatics. "We will still be here every day to help with the rebuilding and repairs."

"But who's going to keep me warm during the long cold nights?" Theo wailed pathetically.

"Presumably the same person that does now," Hermione spoke up, completely devoid of emotion. "Blaise."

There was a resounding series of 'ohs' that followed this, and Hermione laughed as a pillow hit her square in the face.

"You want to go there, Nott?" she challenged.

"It appears I just did, Granger."

"This can only end badly," Draco muttered, getting off the sofa and retreating across the room, not about to get caught in the crossfire when his girlfriend inevitably whooped his best friend's ass.

Ten minutes later, the entire common room had been turned into a pillow war zone, feathers flying in every direction and pillows being conjured out of thin air as everyone in the room partook in Theo and Hermione's brawl.

Daphne and Hermione had teamed up and were in the middle of teaching him a well deserved lesson when the door opened and Professors McGonagall and Sprout walked in, causing everyone to freeze exactly as they were, pillows over their heads and petrified looks on their faces.

"Well, don't let us put a damper on your fun," Professor Sprout smiled brightly at the group. "We've just come to check up on you all, and it seems you are in good health and spirits."

"Most of you, at least," McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Theo, who was curled up on the floor with his hands over his head, begging his attackers for mercy. "Carry on."

Without a second glance, she turned on her heel and followed the head of Hufflepuff back out the door, not making any effort to hide the smile on her face. It was nice to see students enjoying themselves again.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is the great Hermione Granger coming to see me?" Blaise crowed, looking up from the bridge section he was working on when he heard footsteps on the cobblestones.

"Hi Blaise," Hermione smiled tersely, tugging at the sleeves of her shirt nervously.

"Granger. What have I done to deserve your company on this fine afternoon?" He stood and tucked his wand into his back pocket, before leaning back against the bridge railing comfortably.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes, I will steal you away from Draco and take you to Italy," Blaise smirked before she could continue.

"Good to know," she rolled her eyes, but noticeably relaxed. "Not what I was going to ask, though. Draco's birthday is tomorrow."

"Yes it is," he nodded slowly, waiting for her to continue. "Sorry, was that the question?"

"No. The question, is what should I do?"

"Wear a bow."

"Right, I brought that one on myself," Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You really did," he smirked. "But I've got it out of my system now."

"Good, because I'm serious! You and Theo are his best friends. What do I do?"

"Honestly, Draco's never really made a big deal of his birthday," Blaise shrugged. "And after the last few years, I don't really know if he's going to want to do anything."

"I get that," Hermione shook her head. "I mean, I don't want to throw him a big party or anything, I know he wouldn't like _that_ \- not right now at least. But I want to do _something._ "

"Something like what?"

"I don't know!" she huffed. "That's what I'm asking you!"

"Alright, no need to get testy," Blaise chided. "Why don't you ask Draco?"

"Because he just insists that he doesn't need anything and doesn't want anything and doesn't even want to think about it!" Hermione cried, obviously annoyed by the situation. "And that was last year. I haven't had the nerve to ask him this year."

"Well, what did you do last year?"

"That was the day-" The words caught in her throat and she had to take a second to gather herself. "He was in the hospital wing," she muttered.

"Right," Blaise winced, remembering how Potter had attacked Draco on his last birthday. "Sorry."

Hermione offered him a tight smile, forcing herself not to get too emotional before she continued. "I want this year to be better. I want him to be happy."

" _You_ make him happy," Blaise said, fully aware of how cheesy he sounded. "He just wants you."

"That is the most unhelpful answer you could possibly have given," Hermione groaned.

"In that case, I stand by my former suggestion," he smirked. "Wear a bow."

* * *

As much as she wanted to, Hermione couldn't exactly say that Blaise was wrong about the bow. Draco would definitely be happy if he found her wearing nothing but a red bow, but she wanted to give him more than sex. His birthday was special, especially now that the war was over. He hadn't thought he was going to live long enough to turn nineteen, but now he was and that was something worth celebrating in Hermione's eyes.

"I get where you're coming from," Theo nodded along with her reasoning when she cornered him in the dorm. "I mean, I want to do something for him too, but he really doesn't like his birthday."

" _I know_ ," Hermione paced back and forth across their shared dorm room. "But that's because he's never had a good one. I mean, his parents never gave him proper parties or celebrations and his life since Voldemort came back has been absolute shit. He deserves to be able to enjoy his birthday for once!"

"I completely agree," Theo assured her. "But I don't know what you want from me."

"I want a bloody idea!" she cried. "You're his best friend. I asked Blaise and all he had to offer was sex."

"Excuse me?" Theo choked.

"To me, you idiot!" Hermione rolled her eyes. "He said if I wanted to give Draco a present I should wrap myself in a bow."

"Well, I mean, he's not wrong," Theo shrugged, obviously uncomfortable discussing Draco and Hermione's sex life.

"For fuck's sakes! I'm not going to offer myself up to him like a common whore!" Hermione exploded.

"Okay," Theo squeaked, putting his hands up defensively. "I don't know, then. What did you do for your birthday?"

"I was living in a tent, trying not to die."

"How about a happier memory," he suggested. "What did you do when you were a kid?"

"We usually had a party," she shrugged. "Or at least a cake..."

Her eyes suddenly grew wide, an idea obviously blooming as a smile spread across her face.

"That's it!" she beamed. "Thanks, Theo!"

"I'm not sure what I did, but you're welcome?" He shook his head as she rushed out of the room, leaving him incredibly confused.

* * *

With a solid plan in mind for Draco's birthday, Hermione was finally able to relax when she crawled into bed beside him that night, ignoring the questioning looks she was getting from Theo and Blaise. She had slipped a vial of dreamless sleep into Draco's glass of pumpkin juice at dinner, then took a sip of it herself to give them both a good night's sleep- a gift in and of itself these days.

When Draco woke up the next morning- fully rested for the first time in weeks- Hermione was already awake, laying on her side with her head propped up on her hand as she watched him.

"It's creepy when you do that," he mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"It's endearing," Hermione countered, her free hand stroking his cheek. "Happy birthday."

"What are you talking about?" Draco yawned, sitting up on his elbows.

"Today is your birthday." Hermione gave him a confused look.

"It's not my birthday," he shook his head.

"It most certainly is," she insisted. "Believe me, I've been stressing about it all week."

"Then you've been stressing for nothing, because it is definitely _not_ my birthday," Draco argued, getting up and stretching. "Find a calendar and I'll prove-"

Before he could finish speaking, Hermione summoned the calendar Theo kept on his bedside table and thrust it in his face.

"Shit," he frowned.

"So, one more time," Hermione chuckled, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing on her knees, so she could wrap her arms around his neck. "Happy birthday, love."

"Thanks, I guess?" He shrugged, looking rather disgusted by the thought.

"Merlin, you are a piece of work," Hermione chided before kissing him soundly.

"Yeah, I know," Draco gave her a lopsided smile. "Seriously, though, it's just another day. I don't care."

"Well I do," she insisted.

* * *

Hermione spent the morning in the library as usual, so as not to arouse suspicion, but after lunch she told Draco she was going to help Fleur in the daycare and made her way to the kitchens.

"Miss Hermione!" an elf named Fizzle came rushing over to her as soon as she stepped through the door, an elated look on his face. "What is you needing, Miss? Fizzle will be gettings it for you!"

Fizzle was one of many elves that Hermione had befriended since her return to the castle. She had volunteered to help care for the elves that had been injured in the battle and found a new love and appreciation for the creatures outside of S.P.E.W. Fizzle had been one of the first elves to speak openly with her, as the others remembered her from previous years and worried she would try to free them again. He had helped her understand his kind better, explaining that they really did love to serve and found freedom to be an insult. It had taken a lot of time and explaining, and Hermione still wasn't completely convinced that elves shouldn't be free, but she was trying to understand and since she had stopped trying to secretly free them, the rest of the Hogwarts elves had taken a sincere liking to her.

"Hello Fizzle," Hermione smiled kindly. "How are you today?"

"Fizzle is very well Miss," he beamed.

"I'm glad. Fizzle, I was wondering if you could do me a favour."

"Oh, yes Miss! Anything Miss!" Fizzle nodded eagerly.

"I was wondering if I could use the kitchen."

"Is Miss wanting something to eat? Fizzle will make it!"

"No, no," Hermione shook her head. "You see, it's Draco's birthday today and I wanted to make him a cake."

"Miss would like a cake for Master Malfoy?" Fizzle tried to make sense of her request.

"Yes, but I'd like to make it myself," Hermione tried to explain. "So that it's special."

"Miss doesn't want Fizzle to make her a cake," the elf frowned.

"No, I'd just like to use your kitchen, if that's alright," she confirmed. "It's kind of a muggle thing."

"If Miss says so. Miss is welcome to anything she likes." Fizzle didn't look very impressed with the idea, but he took her hand and led her over to a work station with a countertop and stove. "What type of cake is Miss wanting to make?"

"Chocolate," Hermione smiled.

"Fizzle will get what Miss is needing."

"Thank you Fizzle."

"Will Miss be needing any more help?" Fizzle asked when he returned.

"No, thank you," Hermione shook her head. "Chocolate cake is one of the few things I know how to make."

"If Miss is changing her mind, Miss will call Fizzle?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Thank you, again."

* * *

When she was finished with the cake, decorating it with chocolate frosting and birthday candles, Hermione sent an owl to Draco telling him to meet her in the room of requirement after dinner. Skipping the meal herself, she took the sandwich Fizzle forced upon her and went to prepare the room the way she wanted it.

By the time Draco arrived, she'd created a cozy hiding place from the rest of the world. A well-worn sofa sat in front of a crackling fire on one side of the room, a plush rug beneath it that Hermione was trying hard not to curl up on while she waited, it was so comfortable. On the other side of the room, there was an exact replica of the bed they used to sleep in when they were fixing the cabinet. Nothing too special, but still a sanctuary from the rest of the world. Somewhere all their own, if only for the night.

"Happy birthday!" she beamed at Draco when he stepped into the room, holding his birthday cake in front of her and wearing nothing but a Slytherin green bow.

"Fuck," he breathed, shutting the door behind him.

"You may not think your birthday is worth celebrating, but I do," Hermione said seriously. "Because _you_ , Draco Malfoy, are worth celebrating."

"I have to tell you, Granger, I haven't heard a single thing you've said," Draco muttered, his eyes darkening as he crossed the room.

"Make a wish," she chuckled, lighting the candles with a flick of her hand.

"I already have everything I could possibly wish for," he grinned. "I even got the perfect present."

"Just blow out the candles, you idiot."

Draco smirked and did as he was told, before banishing the cake to the coffee table and taking Hermione in his arms.

"Can I open my present now?" he asked, nibbling at her neck.

"Well, it is your birthday," she smirked. "And the birthday boy gets what the birthday boy wants."


	7. Chapter 7

"I got an official owl today," Theo said.

He and Draco were sitting in the common room passing a bottle of firewhiskey back and forth, while Hermione slept with her head in Draco's lap.

"A death notification from the Ministry."

"Proof of inheritance?" Draco guessed.

"Yep. It's all mine now," Theo sighed. "If only I actually wanted it. Have you heard anything?"

"Not since Shacklebolt confirmed they were in custody," Draco shook his head. "I don't expect to hear anything else until trials start. The ministry's a mess, I doubt I'm high on their priority list."

"Have you thought about speaking to them?"

Draco let out a bark of angry laughter and took a long drink

"I'll take that as a no," Theo chuckled.

"I have nothing to say to them," Draco sneered.

"Are you forgetting we've been friends for seventeen years? You have _plenty_ to say to them."

"If I get near them, I think I might actually kill them," he said, stroking Hermione's hair listlessly. "They may not have been the ones that hurt her, but they didn't lift a finger to stop it."

Theo simply nodded at this, knowing how much Draco hated talking about that night.

"Have you talked about _her_ parents yet?" he asked, staring into the fireplace.

"No," Draco sighed heavily. "I don't want to be the one to bring it up."

"She hasn't said anything?"

"Not one word. I'm sure it will come up, though. She mentioned their house the other day."

"And you didn't take the in?" Theo frowned.

"She just said she didn't want to find a flat near there," Draco shook his head. "It wasn't the time."

"Is there really a time to tell someone their family was attacked?"

* * *

 _It had happened over Christmas, when Draco and Theo were home from school. Theo's father had forced his son to join one of the revels under the pretense of showing him what he was missing. Unable to get out of it, Theo had donned the mask his father gave him for Christmas and followed the elder man to Malfoy Manor, where he was greeted by his father's cohorts- all of whom looked like they were about to get a Christmas present themselves._

 _Draco had stood off to the side, watching the revelries with a brooding look in his eye, and Theo had known that there was something he wasn't being told. When they had finally apparated into the muggle neighbourhood chosen for the attack, he had watched as Draco stiffened- though only a close friend would have noticed under the cloak and mask he wore._

" _What are we doing here?" Draco had hissed at their leader. "You know as well as I do that she's not here."_

" _Perhaps not," the elder Nott had smiled maliciously. "But that doesn't mean the house is empty. I wonder what kind of muggle whore could breed something as abhorrent as that little brat."_

" _Where are we?" Theo asked, pulling his friend aside._

" _Granger's house," Draco replied, his voice tight with what Theo had assumed was disgust._

 _He had been right, of course, the house was empty and had been for many months judging by the thick layer of dust that covered everything. This didn't stop any of their companions, though, as they took their anger at not finding unsuspecting victims to torture out on the house. Traps and curses were put all over the place, a welcoming gift should the Granger girl ever return, and every inch of the house had been ripped apart. Blood was thrown over the walls, spelling out slurs and threats, photographs and personal effects were smashed to pieces and desecrated by all sorts of bodily fluids._

 _When Theo's father had finally declared that they had left enough of a mark and should seek entertainment elsewhere, one of his idiot friend's had decided that it wasn't a revel until something went up in flames. They hadn't been able to control the fiendfyre, and barely made it outside before the house was completely engulfed by the flames._

* * *

"They weren't in the house, that's all that matters."

"Do you think she'll see it that way?" Theo glanced at the witch sleeping on his friend's lap.

"They didn't find her parents, that's the important part," Draco insisted.

"That you know of," Theo pointed out grimly. "You were gone for a month. I wasn't exactly in on the meetings, but I heard things. He was pretty set on getting them back by any means."

Draco closed his eyes and lifted his head to the ceiling, breathing deeply through his nose.

"It's going to destroy her," he said defeatedly. "She's having a hard enough time getting by day to day, how can I drop this on her too?"

"Better coming from you than some ministry official," Theo reasoned. "They're going to look into her parents eventually, right?"

Draco nodded unhappily, knowing that his friend was right.

"She'll get past it," Theo tried to comfort him. "I mean, sure, it'll hurt when she first finds out but it'll pass eventually."

"There are far too many things in our lives that will pass eventually," Draco brooded. "She doesn't deserve any more."

"I know, mate," Theo patted him on the back.

Neither one of them realized that the witch in question had been awake through their entire conversation, listening intently.

She didn't make herself known until Theo got up to go to bed, listening as his footsteps retreated down the corridor before turning onto her back and looking up at Draco.

"Hey," he smiled kindly, brushing her hair away from her eyes. "How long have you been awake?"

"What happened to the house?" she asked, her voice laced with unshed tears.

Draco's smile fell and his fingers stilled in her hair, a short breath escaping through his nose. "You were awake."

Hermione nodded, watching him carefully, her eyes full of questions.

"I was going to tell you," he tried to explain. "I just didn't want to put any more stress or pain on you until I had to. I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," she said sincerely, reaching for his free hand. "I just- I need to know."

Draco nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he began stroking her hair again.

"They found the house around Christmas," he related quietly. "Nott was obsessed with finding you- said you had unfinished business together."

"The Department of Mysteries." Hermione nodded, absentmindedly tracing the scars the eldest Nott had left across her shoulder and chest.

"He'd made it his mission to bring you as much pain as possible, so when they found your house he was more than excited to lead a revel there. I did my best to put him off- I insisted that it wasn't worth it since you weren't there, but there was no stopping him. My only option was to go along and try my best to save what I could," Draco continued. "I tried, but..."

"You were there?" Hermione squeaked.

"I tried to ward your room from them," he nodded sadly. "I couldn't stand the thought of those monsters violating your privacy like that, but I couldn't get away from the group in time. When they realized that your parents weren't there, they took their anger out on whatever they could reach. I was able to save a few photographs while they were busy tearing the place to shreds, but it's not much."

Hermione sat up slowly, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, then laced her fingers through Draco's.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Hermione," he shook his head morosely, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"No, really," she insisted, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "Thank you. You tried so hard to protect me, and that means more than anything. It doesn't matter that the house is trashed, it can be fixed-"

"Hermione, the house is gone," Draco said, taking her face in his hands.

"Wh-what?"

"We were leaving, Nott had gotten tired of pissing on furniture and I had almost cleared them all out, but Rodolphus hadn't had his fix," Draco explained, the guilt he was feeling written all over his face. "None of the idiots knew how to control Fiendfyre- we barely made it out ourselves before it went up. I'm sorry, Hermione, the house is gone."

He watched closely as Hermione digested this information, expecting the tears to come at any moment, but they didn't. Instead he saw her brain turning, rationalizing everything he had just said and compartmentalizing it with the rest of her thoughts about her parents, tucking them into the tiny little boxes that littered her mind, keeping her from falling apart.

"Okay," she finally nodded. "Okay."

"Hermione?"

"It was just a house," she said forcefully, despite the fact that her eyes were full of pain and sorrow. "It was just a house. What matters is that my parents weren't there."

A single tear slipped past her eyelashes and made its way slowly down her cheek, but Hermione brushed it away as if it were nothing.

"What matters is that they were safe," she repeated.

"They were," Draco agreed. "You made sure of that."

She nodded again, not trusting her voice in that moment.

"Come here," Draco pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. "No matter what, you always have your memories of that house. They can't take those away from you."

Hermione nodded again, her head tucked into his shoulder. She didn't make a sound, but Draco could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and he held her tighter, wishing that he could soak up her pain and bear it himself instead of having to watch her go through it. There was no magic that could do that, though. All he could do was hold her and assure her that even if she didn't have a house, she would always have a home with him.

"Take me to bed," Hermione finally whispered pleadingly. "I just want to lay with you."

"As you wish," Draco pressed a soft kiss to her temple.


	8. Chapter 8

"We do not need to look in Central London," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's ridiculously expensive!"

"I'm ridiculously rich," Draco pointed out. "Why not take advantage of that?"

They were sitting in a cafe in muggle London once again, this time with an array of rental ads spread out around them and a steady of stream of coffee fuelling their arguments about where they should live.

"Draco-"

"Hermione, come on!" he groaned. "How many times are we going to have this argument?"

"I'm not arguing, I'm telling you. I can't take your money."

"Which is arguing, because I _want_ you to have my money! What else am I going to do with it besides share it with the woman I love?"

She bit her cheek to keep from smiling at this, but Draco knew that he was winning her over. If he just kept chipping away, he was convinced that both their names would be on the vault by the end of the year.

"Just because you have money, that doesn't mean you need to live in the most expensive part of town," Hermione changed tactics.

"Maybe not, but what if it's where we're meant to be living?"

"Because fate has been so kind to us thus far," she scoffed. "I'm not living in Central London."

"You really need to learn how to be more decadent," Draco rolled his eyes. "You're missing out."

"I'm perfectly happy the way I am, thank you. Now, what about South London?" Hermione pushed a stack of ads across the table, taking away the Central London ones he had somehow found.

"Think of how close we could be to everything, though!" Draco reasoned.

"I'm going to get another coffee, and when I get back you'd better not have any Central listings in front of you," Hermione threatened, snatching her mug from the table and ruffling his hair as she passed.

When she came back a few minutes later with coffee and two scones, Draco had a mischievous smirk on his face and a book in front of him instead of rental ads.

"Just one more point, and then I promise I'll let it go," he put his hands up placatingly.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, but waved at him to get on with it.

"All the best bookshops are in Central London. You could live within walking distance of some of your favourite places in the world."

His tone made her think of a muggle sorceress casting a curse on an unsuspecting man, and she couldn't help but smile.

"I can apparate to those shops," Hermione pointed out.

"You could," Draco allowed. "But we both know how much you'd like to walk to them."

Hermione pursed her lips and glared, making him smile even more.

"I hate you," she shook her head.

"You love me," Draco beamed, standing up so he could kiss her.

"I'm not living in Central London." She smirked against his lips and felt him frown.

"You're a spoilsport," he grumbled, sitting down again.

"I know," Hermione assured him. "Ron's been telling me for years. Now, what about this one?"

She pulled out an ad for a two bedroom flat in Shoreditch and began looking over the specs, ignoring her boyfriend's pouts.

* * *

Three hours later, they stood outside a converted warehouse in Shoreditch waiting for the landlord to arrive.

"It's brilliant," Hermione beamed, holding Draco's arm and leaning into him sweetly.

"It's so... depressing," Draco grimaced, looking up and down the street.

There wasn't much to look at, as the entire area was made up of converted warehouses, but Hermione insisted that he wasn't seeing the full potential of the place.

"Just because the street is drab, doesn't mean the inside will be," she argued. "Besides, we can always brighten it up. You won't believe what I can do with a can of paint and some bookshelves."

This at least brought a smile to Draco's face, making Hermione smile even brighter.

"Miss Granger?" A man in his late 40s approached the couple tentatively, dressed in a muggle suit with a leather binder in hand and a smile on his face.

"Yes," Hermione smiled politely and took his hand.

"Reg McCrae- landlord."

"Pleasure to meet you. This is my boyfriend, Draco."

Reg's smile faltered as he realized who Draco was, but he didn't turn them away- which Draco took to be a good sign. Instead, he offered his hand to the blonde and gave him a respectful nod.

"Shall we head inside?" Reg gestured towards the building, his voice slightly less jovial than it had been a moment before, but still warm enough to be professional.

"Please." Hermione nodded, taking Draco's arm as they followed the landlord in.

As they made their way through the front doors and up the stairs, Draco studied Reg closely, watching his every move for some sign of sinister intentions. He was slightly shorter than Draco and had short brown hair, which looked to be receding slightly. He wasn't a thin man, but Draco suspected that he wasn't one to turn down pudding either. He chatted to Hermione as they climbed sharing general information about the area, like where the nearest tube station could be found- Draco didn't know why he would need tubing, but she seemed to appreciate the information- and on the whole, Draco had to admit he seemed on the up and up.

"Right, so come on in and look around." Reg opened the door with a flick of his wand and gestured them inside. "Like the ad said, its a two-floor arrangement. Both the bedrooms and the kitchen are on this floor, and upstairs you've got a reception room- or even a third bedroom if you had the need."

The flat entered into a small corridor, with an entryway to the kitchen and dining room immediately across from the front door and a coat closet and entrance to the smaller of the bedrooms around the corner. Upon entering the dining area, Draco was immediately taken with how open it was. The room itself wasn't exactly large, but it was open to the loft area above, which sported an entire wall of windows and gave the entire space an amazing amount of natural light.

"The appliances are all new, leftover from the muggles that lived here last," Reg droned on. "I've only just purchased the building, you see. And there's hardwood floors all the way through."

He led them through another door off the kitchen into the master bedroom. The room was rather oddly shaped, one of the walls making a semi-circle to house the ensuite bathroom, but it was a good size and once again had large windows that made the room seem bigger. The bathroom was floor to ceiling grey tile, and Draco had to admit that he was a little in love with the dark style in contrast to the bright, spacious rooms they had seen so far. The second bedroom was almost identical to the master and had its own ensuite, connected by a large barn door, with a shower as opposed to the large bathtub in the master bath.

It was a nice flat- a very nice flat- there was no denying that, but Draco still wasn't sold. It seemed so small compared to the houses he'd always lived in, but there was a point to be made that those places had never felt like homes. They were always too expansive, filled with barely used rooms and foreboding statues and paintings, always drafty despite the fires roaring in each room and never as comforting and pleasant as his dorm at school. As he listened to Hermione chatter about paint colours and furniture, though, the empty flat before him slowly transformed into something all their own and he could see it as a proper home. The loft was what made it all fall into place.

Accessed by an open staircase across from the kitchen, it had a picturesquely slanted ceiling and was open to the rest of the flat. Immediately, he knew that this would be their library. One wall was made up entirely by windows and allowed access to a rooftop terrace that Hermione assured him would be amazing with a little sprucing up. They would line the opposite wall completely in bookshelves, get a sofa and a plush carpet and never want to leave again.

"Draco," Hermione turned to him, eyes wide and hopeful, and he couldn't help but smile.

"I know," he nodded, giving her hand a squeeze and turning back to Reg, who stood a few steps behind them on the staircase. "We'll take it."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Guys, it's a miracle! My muse has returned and holy fuck is she blessing me right now! So I am officially recalling my previous warning about not being able to make this too long and giving you all an extra chapter. In fact, I might even return to my previous posting schedules of Sunday and Wednesday nights since writing is suddenly going so well.**

 **Thanks for all your reviews and follows and favourites, every single one of them brings a smile to my face and makes me want to work ten times harder. Love, Em**

Sarah Rookwood had latched onto Hermione when she and Draco first brought the underage students back to school, and in the weeks that followed the two formed a close relationship. Hermione had helped her find her younger brother Ewan and bring him to Hogwarts, and she had taken a special interest in the siblings. By the beginning of June, Sarah was the only first year left in the castle and Ewan- only three- was the youngest of the siblings that had been brought to Hogwarts. They wouldn't be leaving any time soon either, as their father was sure to serve a life-sentence in Azkaban and they had no other family. All the remaining Slytherins had taken a shining to the pair, but Hermione had forged an especially strong relationship with them, taking on the role of an older sister. So when Sarah appeared in front of her the night after she and Draco signed the papers for their flat, tears in her eyes, Hermione was immediately worried.

"Is it true?" Sarah sniffled.

"Is what true?" Hermione asked, moving from her spot on the couch leaning against Draco so she could take Sarah's hands.

"You're leaving?"

She sounded so distraught that Hermione almost denied it, promising to live in the Slytherin dorm forever if it would keep her from crying, but she couldn't lie to the girl so she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Draco and I _are_ going to be living outside the castle," she confirmed. "But that doesn't mean we're _leaving_. We'll still be here every day."

"Then why can't you still live here?" Sarah asked, a single fat tear slipping down her cheek.

Hermione bit her lip and looked back at Draco desperately, but he only shrugged.

"Okay," she took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. "You feel safe here, right?"

"Of course," Sarah nodded. "Hogwarts is the safest place in the world, that's what you said."

"I know I did," Hermione agreed, smiling tightly. "And it is, but Draco and I had to do a lot of dangerous things here, and we saw a lot of really horrible things and that makes it hard for us to be here all the time."

"I- I guess that makes sense," Sarah bit her lip, a mirror image of Hermione. "Like how I don't want to go back to my father's manor."

"Exactly like that. We'll still see each other every day, though," Hermione assured her. "I would never leave you and Ewan behind. We're family now."

"Really?"

"Really," she pulled her into a hug. "Now, where is Ewan?"

"He has a runny nose, so Madame Pomfrey says he has to stay in the hospital wing for the night."

"Well, what do you say you and I go read him a story before bed?" Hermione suggested.

Sarah nodded enthusiastically and ran to get the Muggle book Hermione had started reading to them, leaving Draco and Hermione alone again.

"You good?" he asked quietly, his hand on the small of her back.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I just didn't expect her to be so upset."

"You're the first person I've seen her really connect with," Draco shrugged. "I mean she had friends, but she was always a bit of an outsider. She was a hat stall, like you."

"Really? You never told me that."

"We haven't done a lot of talking lately," he pointed out.

"I know," Hermione looked at her hands guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Draco said, lifting her chin so he could see her face. "You've spent the last month doing nothing but go to funerals, you're allowed to be depressed and distant."

"I don't want to be," she shook her head. "I want to be here for you and I haven't been, and I'm really sorry for that."

"What makes you think you haven't been here for me?" Draco demanded, genuinely shocked.

"You're always taking care of me," Hermione said mournfully. "I know I've been a mess and I'm sorry."

"Hermione, stop apologizing. We take care of each other, that's what being in a relationship is, love."

"What have I done to take care of you?" she sniffed. "You spend all our time together trying to get me to eat, or calming me down from a panic attack or, holding me while I cry-"

"Hermione," Draco took her face in his hands. "Do you wake me up every night when I have nightmares?"

"Well, yes, of course," she nodded. "But-"

"-And do you sit with me when _I_ have panic attacks?" he cut her off.

"When I'm here, but I haven't been lately and-"

"You take care of me," he put a finger to her lips to quiet her, leaning down to meet her eyes. "Okay? I would not have gotten through the past month if it wasn't for you. I don't care if you don't think so, I'm telling you it's true."

He could tell that she still didn't quite believe him, but just then Sarah came back with her book.

"Ready?" Hermione turned away from Draco and forced a smile as she got to her feet.

"Ready," Sarah nodded quickly. "Draco, do you want to come with us?"

"No thanks," he smiled. "You two have fun, though."

Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly, then took the hand Sarah offered and followed her out the door.

* * *

The subject of siblings came up pretty quickly in the aftermath of May 2nd. The parents of most students left at the school had been killed, arrested or gone on the run, leaving any younger siblings to fend for themselves. Thankfully Daphne Greengrass had come to the rescue, remembering that House elves could apparate in and out of Hogwarts. Within hours the hospital ward had been full of children eleven and under reuniting with their older brothers and sisters.

A cluster of empty classrooms on the fourth floor had been turned into a sort of daycare, run by Fleur Weasley and Madame Pomfrey, with the help of some of the older students during the day, and dorms had been expanded to fit extra beds where needed.

At first it had been total chaos, no one was really used to having young children around, but everyone had done their best. Three weeks on there were only ten kids left, and they were the pride and joy of the remaining castle residents.

"Hermimmy!" Ewan jumped up and down on his bed when he saw the Gryffindor, unable to get down thanks to the wards Madame Pomfrey had put up.

"Hi Ewan," Hermione smiled, her mood instantly improving when she saw the elated grin on the little boy's face. "Sarah says you have a runny nose."

He nodded morosely, but didn't stop jumping until the matron stuck her head into the room to scold him.

"Did you bring Pooh?" Ewan asked eagerly, landing on his bum after one final bounce.

"I most certainly did," Hermione laughed, taking down the ward around his bed so that she and Sarah could sit.

When they were all comfortable, Ewan in his sisters lap and both of them leaning against Hermione, she opened the Winnie the Pooh Treasury she had given them and started to read.

" _One day, when Christopher Robin and Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet were all talking together, Christopher Robin finished the mouthful he was eating and said carelessly: 'I saw a Heffalump today, Piglet..._ "

* * *

Twenty minutes and two chapters later, both kids were asleep. Figuring it was easiest to just let Sarah sleep there, Hermione carefully extracted herself from the bed and tucked both children in.

"You're good with them," Madame Pomfrey smiled fondly at her from her office doorway. "Not many eighteen year olds would spend their evenings reading children stories."

"They're special," Hermione shrugged, smiling warmly at the sleeping pair. "Besides, it's nice spending time with people who still get excited."

"Don't sell yourself short dear. I hear you and Mr. Malfoy have some excitement ahead of you- a new flat?"

"In Shoreditch," she nodded. "It is exciting... and terrifying... slightly nauseating."

"Change always is," the healer chuckled. "You're going to be fine, though."

"Thanks Poppy. Have a good night."

"You as well, dear."

* * *

"Hermione!" Blaise beckoned for her to join them as she stepped into the common room, patting his lap invitingly.

"Blaise, we both know she has no desire to sit on your bony lap," Theo rolled his eyes. "She prefers Malfoy's bony lap."

"There is nothing bony about me," Draco argued.

"Really?" Blaise's eyebrow quirked up suggestively. "In that case, might I suggest you come over here and see what's it like to have a real man, Hermione?"

"You might," she smirked. "But you won't feel like a real man anymore."

His face paled as Draco and Theo chuckled.

"You just have to poke the bear, don't you?" Theo shook his head.

"Lioness," Draco corrected, pulling Hermione onto the sofa beside him. "Sarah and Ewan get to sleep alright?"

"Yeah, all good," She took the bottle of butterbeer he was holding and took a sip, smiling insolently when he glared at her.

"Malfoy was just telling us about your new place," Theo caught her up. "Sounds like a real catch- despite the landlord being a pious arse."

"I wouldn't go that far," Draco frowned. "He did sell it to us."

"At five times the original price!" Blaise scoffed.

"I'm perfectly fine with that," Draco shrugged. "I've got more than enough to pay for it, and I can't really blame him. He's just covering himself- who knows how many people will walk away from a flat there when they find out there's a Malfoy in the building. It's worth it."

"It's great," Hermione agreed eagerly. "It's so open and it's got so much light!"

"Light's overrated," Blaise sneered, waving around the dark room. "We've made it eighteen years without light and look how well we've turned out."

"I don't even know what to say to that," she shook her head, stuttering out a laugh.

"Well obviously you should offer to rehabilitate us in your light filled flat and give us the second bedroom."

"You are more than welcome to stay whenever you like," Hermione smiled.

"Cheers to that," Theo raised his drink at her. "So, when are we moving?"

"We get the place next week," Draco rolled his eyes. "And you should know that you're sharing that spare room with the Gryffindorks."

"Don't they have their own places to crash?" Blaise complained. "We called it first!"

"Oh good Lord," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You cannot bagsy our guest room, you have to learn to share."

"What the fuck is 'bagsy'?" Theo asked, looking at her like she was insane.

"It's a muggle thing," she tried to explain. "Like, calling something for yourself? First shot, that kind of thing?"

"Bagsy?" Blaise repeated, feeling the word out. "I like it."

"I'm so glad. You still can't bagsy the guest room."

"You're a tease Granger," Theo shook his head at her disapprovingly. "A bloody tease."

"I've been told," she assured him.


	10. Chapter 10

"So you're moving in with Malfoy," Ginny smirked. "How scandalous."

"Not really," Hermione rolled her eyes, focusing on the wall they were trying to repair in the astronomy tower. "I mean, we've been together for almost two years."

"That doesn't count!" Ginny scoffed. "You were on the run for most of that."

"We were still together," Hermione argued. "And you live with Harry!"

" _And_ my parents! It's so not the same!"

"I guess," she rolled her eyes. "But it's not scandalous either."

"Well I suppose that depends. What do you plan on doing in this apartment?" Ginny asked, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

"That is none of your business," Hermione blushed.

"I knew it!" Ginny grinned. "See, you might play the prude, but you Hermione Granger, are a sexy witch!"

"That's what we keep trying to tell her," Blaise Zabini's voice floated up the stairwell, followed closely by the man himself, Astoria Greengrass on his heels. "But she refuses to listen, or help us prove our point."

"You know, she's going to push you down the stairs one day Blaise," Astoria rolled her eyes. "And I'm not going to do a thing to stop her. In fact, I might help."

"I'm sure you will, Stor. Gonna introduce us to your friend, Granger?" Blaise nodded appreciatively at Ginny.

"You know perfectly well who she is Blaise," Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you know she's taken, so you can stop leering at her like she's a piece of meat."

"I would never leer at a woman!" Blaise gasped, feigning offence. "I have nothing but appreciation for the fairer sex."

"Are you overly attached to this?" Ginny nodded towards the cheeky Italian, a vaguely disgusted look on her face.

"No," Astoria and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Well, you two sure know how to make a man feel good about himself." Blaise scoffed, turning and holding his hand out to Ginny. "Blaise Zabini, we've never been properly introduced."

"I'm perfectly happy keeping it that way," she wrinkled her nose.

"When did witches get so mean?" Blaise grumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Usually right around the time you show up," Astoria smiled. "Ginny, right?"

"Right," Ginny shook the Slytherin girl's hand and shook it amiably.

"Right, sorry. Ginny, Astoria. Astoria, Ginny," Hermione introduced them quickly.

"What about me?!" Blaise cried.

"Everyone in this bloody country knows who you are, Blaise," Astoria rolled her eyes. "The fucking muggle queen has probably heard your name!"

"You really think so?" his eyes lit up at this thought.

"Did you need something?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. "Or are you just here to test my self control?"

"You didn't come down to lunch, Draco sent us to look for you," Astoria explained. "Well, to be more accurate, he wanted to send out a search party and we convinced him that you would be less likely to hurt him if we just came up here and reminded you what time it was."

"We're almost done here, we just figured we'd finish up before we ate," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's what I told him," Blaise offered. "But you know how your darling boyfriend can get."

"I do," she sighed. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"Brilliant, we'll see you back in the hall." Blaise turned on his heel and started towards the stairs, but stopped when Astoria reached out and grabbed his arm.

"You can wait an extra five minutes," she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it won't kill you."

"No, but any one of you might," he argued.

"And don't forget it," Hermione patted his cheek harshly, before waving her wand at the wall one last time. "Alright, lunch?"

* * *

"Have you thought about having a tracking device embedded in her, Malfoy?" Ginny mused as they joined the blond Slytherin a few minutes later. "One of those muggle things that tells you where someone is at all time, you know?"

"I have," Draco assured her. "But every time I try, she hexes me."

"Touche," the redhead chuckled.

"Here you go, love." Draco put a plate in front of Hermione, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Eat."

When she didn't argue and simply began picking at a piece of chicken, Ginny's eyebrows shot all the way up to her hairline.

"I've given up arguing," Hermione explained tersely.

"No you haven't," Draco scoffed. "If you'd given up, you'd eat what's on the plate."

"I _do_ eat what's on the plate," his girlfriend hissed. "Would you just let it be for once?"

"Sure, when you weigh more than five stone again."

"Are they like this at every meal?" Ginny asked Astoria quietly

"Pretty much," the younger girl nodded. "On the good days, at least. On bad days she just eats."

Ginny nodded and went back to listening to the bickering couple across from her, a small smile on her face as the old Hermione peeked through the war-torn shell she had grown used to.

"If you eat all the chicken, I'll buy you a hippogriff," Draco coaxed.

"If you shut up I might sleep with you again," Hermione growled, elbowing him in the ribs.

"You know, Granger, you should really save your ace for last," Blaise whispered conspiratorially, earning himself a smack to the head.

"So are you done with the Astronomy tower?" Astoria turned to Ginny, ignoring the others bickering.

"Oh, I think so," she nodded. "What about you? Where have you been working?"

"I help with the children during the day, but Blaise has been out repairing the Gatehouse bridge."

"More like completely rebuilding," the Italian scoffed. "Your mate couldn't have just damaged it?"

"Seamus has never been one to half-arse his explosives," Ginny chuckled.

"Besides, a little hard labour is just what you need Zabini," Draco clapped his friend on the back. "Not that you've been doing any."

"Oi! I've done just as much as you have!"

"You're both being ridiculous," Hermione interjected. "All you're doing is waving your wands around. There is absolutely no labour involved."

"And none of you are dealing with wild magic, so you can all shove your complaining up your arses," Astoria huffed.

"Somebody's bitter," Blaise muttered under his breath.

"Not bitter, just tired of listening to you lot complain."

"Here, here!" Ginny raised her glass of pumpkin juice in agreement.

* * *

"Right, one more time," Harry shook his head at Hermione.

They were snuggled into a booth at the Three Broomsticks with Ginny, Draco and Theo after finishing the day's repairs at Hogwarts, a 'Notice-Me-Not' charm surrounding them so they could avoid the hoards of reporters that seemed to follow Harry everywhere he went and subsequently latched onto Hermione whenever they were given a chance.

"Hermione and I have bought a flat together," Draco rolled his eyes. "What part of that is going over your head, Potter? I'm not sure I could use any smaller words."

"We're renting a flat," Hermione corrected. "And don't be a prick, Draco."

"Asking a lot of the man, aren't you Granger?" Theo smirked.

"Sorry, I'm just still trying to wrap my head around the two of you as a couple and now you're living together, it's a lot!" Harry explained, trying his best not to sound too judgemental.

"Harry, you've known about us for months," Hermione argued. "I really thought we were over this."

"I'm not upset about it," he assured her. "I'm happy for you, I guess. But it's still a lot to take in. _Knowing_ you're with Malfoy and actually _seeing_ you with Malfoy are two very different things."

"Well, you never were very quick on the uptake Potter," Draco allowed, earning a swift kick to the shin from his girlfriend. "Ow!"

"What did I just say?" she raised an eyebrow. "I said 'don't be a prick' and what are you doing right now?"

"I'm simply assuring Potter that I understand he can be slow sometimes," he smirked innocently.

"Draco Malfoy, you are on thin ice," Hermione glared dangerously.

Her expression did nothing but make him smirk even more, though Harry and Theo both shuddered in fear.

"Better you than me," Theo muttered under his breath.

"So," Ginny said loudly, redirecting the conversation. "Do you want help shopping, Hermione?"

"Probably," the brunette nodded. "I guess I'm going to need to buy... well, everything."

"What about your parent's house?" Ginny asked innocently. "Isn't there stuff there you'd like to have?"

She could tell almost immediately that she'd misspoken. Theo and Draco both looked to Hermione with worried expressions, but she refused to look at either of them.

"N-no," Hermione shook her head, her eyes focused on her mug of butterbeer. "No, there's nothing there."

"Hermione?" Harry put his arm around her. "What haven't you told us?"

"I-" she glanced across the table to Draco a desperate look in her eye, silently begging him for help.

"They found it," he answered for her, pulling Harry and Ginny's attention. "The Deatheaters, they found her parent's house. It's gone."

"Gone?" Ginny repeated.

"They burned it to the ground," Theo explained sadly. "There's nothing left."

"I'm sorry," Harry hugged his best friend tightly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's gone, there's nothing else _to_ say," she shrugged, trying not to let herself cry. She had shed enough tears for her lost family home, she didn't need to let any more fall.

"Well, I'm sure Mum would be happy to help you get your new place set up," Ginny reached across the table and took Hermione's hand, hoping to brighten the mood a bit. "She loved getting Shell Cottage stocked."

Hermione nodded and gave her friend an appreciative smile. "I'd like that."

"Excellent, I'll talk to her tonight, maybe we can go one afternoon this week."

* * *

"Are you okay with me shopping with Molly and Ginny?" Hermione asked as she and Draco got ready for bed later that night.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I just didn't know if you'd want to do it together." She shrugged, putting her hair in a knot on top of her head- a habit she'd gotten into since Draco was always complaining that it was trying to smother him while they slept.

"Oh," Draco frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know, maybe. Do _you_ want me to come with you?"

"Well I want you to like everything. This is _our_ flat after all, it should be a reflection of both of us."

"I'm sure I'll love whatever you get," he shrugged.

"You sound like my dad," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"How's that?" Draco asked, trying not to make a big deal of the fact that she was talking about her parents- something she had adamantly avoided for almost two years.

"I just remember my mum asking him what he thought of paint colours and furniture and such when I was growing up and he'd always just say 'it's lovely dear,' or 'whatever you like'. It drove her nuts," she smiled wistfully.

"Why don't we choose the furniture together?" Draco offered. "You and Ginny and Mrs. Weasley go and spend to your heart's content on everything else we might need, and you and I can pick out the sofa and bed together."

"Is that all the furniture we're going to have, a sofa and a bed?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well they're the most fun to test out," he smirked, eyes darkening lustfully as he sat on edge of the bed and pulled her between his legs. "The rest is just... uncomfortable."

"You're ridiculous," Hermione laughed, looping her arms around his neck.

"I'm just saying what we're both thinking. I'll slip out to Gringotts tomorrow and get you spending money."

"Draco, I have my own money,"she sighed.

"Hermione, I've got more money than I could use in a thousand lifetimes," he said seriously. "I want you to spend that money on _our_ home."

Hermione pursed her lips together unhappily, still uncomfortable taking Draco's money no matter how many times he insisted that he wanted her to have it.

"Come on," he pinched her hip, making her jump a little in surprise. "You're taking the money."

"I have money too, you know," she repeated defiantly.

Not wanting to have an argument, Draco decided to take a different approach and started to tickle her.

"Draco!" Hermione gasped trying to pull away, only to have his arm encircle her even tighter and pull her onto the bed on top of him, tickling her relentlessly.

"Take the money," he ordered, rolling her underneath him as he continued tickling her ribs, making her gasp for breath.

"Okay, okay!" she finally gasped between giggles. "I give up!"

"See, was that so hard," Draco smirked, his hands stilling against her ribs and his lips capturing hers.

"I hate you." She tried to press her lips together in a frown, but a smile still slipped through.

"You love me," he shook his head. "It's okay. I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

The next afternoon, Hermione used the floo in Professor McGonagall's office to meet Molly and Ginny at the Burrow so they could go shopping. She'd received an owl from the Weasley matriarch at breakfast expressing her excitement for the trip, and found that she was excited herself. It had been too long since she'd spent time with her surrogate mother and she had been missing her own mother quite a bit since she and Draco had decided to move in together, a day with Molly Weasley was just what the healer ordered.

"Oh, Hermione!" Molly gushed as she stepped out of the fireplace in the Weasley kitchen. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione grinned and accepted a bone crushing hug.

"Mrs. Weasley!" the older woman huffed. "Honestly, my girl, how many times must I say it? It's Molly or Mum."

"Right, of course," Hermione smiled apologetically. " _Molly_. Thank you so much for helping me today. I'm rather lost when it comes to homemaking, and you're the best person I know for the job."

"Oh, you flatter me," Molly blushed. "I'm happy to help, it's been too long since we've seen each other."

"I know, I'm sorry," Hermione looked at her shoes.

"Pish posh!" Molly shook her head, then reached out and lifted Hermione's chin. "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, dear, we all cope in our own ways. I'm just happy to have you back here. You'll have to bring your young man home for dinner one day soon, Arthur and I are eager to meet him."

"I'm not sure how Ron will feel about that," Hermione admitted. "I'm afraid he's rather unhappy with me."

"He's just hurting," Molly assured her kindly. "He's been doing better the last few days, though. Arthur finally put his foot down and purged the house of Firewhiskey."

"Really?" Hermione raised a brow in surprise.

"It was time," Molly sighed. "He and George have just been in such a dark place, and we wanted them to grieve in their own way, but it's not healthy. We couldn't help but think how upset F-Fred would be if he were here."

She stuttered over her fallen son's name, tears gathering in her eyes and Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around her again, unable to bear the sight.

"They'll be alright," she promised.

"Of course they will," Molly cleared her throat and took a step back, wiping her eyes. "It's just going to take time. Today will be a wonderful distraction, though. Are you all ready?"

"I am, what about Ginny?"

"She and Harry are visiting with Teddy, but she's going to meet us a little later," Molly explained. "I thought we might get some of the more mundane things out of the way beforehand- towels and such."

"That sounds wonderful," Hermione agreed, looking forward to some time alone with the older woman. "Shall we?"

* * *

Molly took her to what Hermione could only describe as the Wizard version of Harrods- and just so happened to be in the basement of said department store. All around them, displays showed self-cooking utensils, pre-charmed vacuums and all kinds of household goods that Hermione had never even heard of.

"You're right, they really do have everything," she said, looking around the bustling store appreciatively.

"I told you." Molly laughed, Hermione's face reminding her of the look her mother had had her first time in Diagon Alley. "Now, do you have any ideas of what you'd like in regards to colours and such?"

"Well, I was thinking purple and grey for our bedroom," Hermione mused. "And maybe blue for the kitchen and dining area. Other than that, I'm not sure."

"Well, that's a good start. Why don't we start with the kitchen, that is my area of expertise after all."

"Perfect," Hermione laughed. "Especially since, if you ask Harry and Ron, I'd be lost in one."

"Don't worry, that's easy enough to fix," Molly assured her. "Now, this way."

They hadn't been there for more than ten minutes when the press arrived, trailing along behind them and taking photo after photo no matter how many dirty looks Molly shot at them.

Hermione was doing her best to keep her head down and not give them anything to take pictures of, but that didn't seem to matter, they followed all the same as she picked out white dishes with blue edges and Puddlemere United dish towels, asking question after question. She ignored them as best she could, trying not to react when they suggested she was moving in with Ron or Harry, and being careful not to speak too loudly to Molly, thankful for the protective arm the older woman kept securely around her the whole time.

"Don't forget silverware," she reminded her. "You don't want to be eating soup with your hands."

"Right," Hermione added a box of cutlery to the basket she carried and followed Molly to get cooking utensils.

* * *

When they met Ginny two hours later outside the Leaky, Molly had successfully stocked her kitchen, bathrooms and bedroom with the necessary amenities and knick-knacks, and Hermione had been able to keep enough self control not to hex any of the reporters that were _still_ following her- but her patience was running out.

"What's all this?" Ginny nodded to the gaggle behind them as her mother and Hermione approached.

"The reprehensible sods haven't given us a moment's peace since we left the house," Molly huffed. "Honestly, don't they have better things to do with their time?"

"They're just doing their jobs," Hermione said tersely. "Awful as they may be. We should just be thankful Rita Skeeter isn't with them."

"Of course she's not, she just got clearance to get into Hogwarts," Ginny stated obviously.

"She what?!"

"Right, you didn't know," the redhead frowned nervously. "Harry found out last night from Kings, that's why he suggested we go today... and I can tell from your face that he didn't tell you any of this. Sorry."

Hermione's hands curled into fists as she tried to control herself, her entire body burning with rage.

"Kingsley gave that wretched woman press clearance to get into Hogwarts?!" she seethed. " _And Harry knew_?"

Ginny nodded, inching away from Hermione nervously. "And now you do too, because I'm a wonderful friend and told you right away."

She smiled hopefully, her tone optimistically bright, but Hermione only glared at her dangerously.

"Well, why don't we get moving?" Molly attempted to herd the girls towards the apothecary. "We don't need to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already have."

"They're just excited," Ginny linked her arm through Hermione's as they walked, noting the way she glared at the reporters and hoping it would keep her from hexing her. "You haven't left the castle for anything other than funerals, that they know of, and they weren't allowed into those."

"They're ridiculous, is what they are," Hermione snarled. "There's absolutely no reason for them to be trailing after me like I'm some sort of celebrity. They should go find a Quidditch player to stalk, or a member of the Weird Sisters- or better yet they should leave us all alone!"

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Mione, but you most certainly _are_ a celebrity," Ginny gave her an apologetic smile. "You helped Harry Potter save the entire bloody world- or, more accurately, Harry helped you."

"That is not what happened," Hermione argued. "We all fought and we all won."

"Oh, you innocent, naive child," Ginny patted her arm patronizingly.

"Shove off." Hermione chuckled and pulled away from the girl, jogging a few steps to catch up to Molly, who was holding the Apothecary door open for them.

"Good afternoon," the potions master at the counter greeted them warmly. "How can I help you?"

"Afternoon," Molly stepped forward. "We'll be needing quite a few things. All the basic ingredients, of course, and a selection of ingredients for the various housekeeping potions."

"Of course, would you like them packaged and sent to your home?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I'll be taking them with me. I'll also need all the common ingredients for healing potions and dreamless sleep."

"Of course, Miss," the potion master nodded. "It will take time to gather all that. Perhaps you would like to return in an hour or so?"

"Wonderful," Molly nodded quickly. "That will give us time to stop into Flourish and Blotts to get you some basic homemaking spell books."

At the mention of the book shop, Ginny mumbled a string of curses under her breath, making Hermione snicker and her mother glare.

"Ginevra Weasley, that is enough of that," she scolded.

"You can't take her into book shops, Mum!" Ginny whinged. "She'll never leave!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I have self control."

"Not in book shops you don't," Ginny snorted.

"Go hang out in the Quidditch shop, then," Hermione offered. "We'll meet you back in the Apothecary."

"Excellent," Ginny smiled wickedly and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek. "Bye!"

Before her mother could protest, she skipped off, a couple of the reporters following her in the hopes of getting pictures of her and Harry together.

* * *

When Hermione returned to Hogwarts that night she was loaded down with parcels, all of them shrunk down to fit into her old school bag, but still weighing her down despite the feather-light charm she'd cast on it. Apparently the charm wasn't strong enough to work on an entire house worth of purchases.

"That's it?" Blaise scoffed when she walked into the dorm, dropping the bag beside Draco's trunk. "One bag? Blimey, you really are frugal, aren't you?"

"I'm efficient," Hermione corrected. "And a damn good witch, which is how I fit all _this_ into one bag."

She waved her wand at the bag and within seconds, the room was covered in parcels ranging in all sizes and shapes until not an inch of floor or any of the beds was visible.

"See, that's more like it," Blaise nodded approvingly. "And I bet you still didn't use all the galleons Draco forced on you."

"Of course not," she scoffed, charming everything into the trunk. "He gave me far too much. Where is Draco, anyways? I thought he'd be waiting when I got back."

"Right," Blaise sucked his teeth, suddenly remembering why he was in the dorm. "There was a bit of an inci-"

"What happened?!" Hermione reeled on him before he could even get the words out, a panicked look in her eyes.

"Calm down, everything's fine." Blaise put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from attacking him or making a run for it. "There was a slight disagreement between Draco and a few of our former housemates which may or may not have taken a... aggressive turn."

"What do you mean, an aggressive turn?" Hermione snarled. " _Where is Draco_?"

"He's in the hospital wing, but-"

Hermione took off at a sprint, not bothering to wait for Blaise to finish explaining, and he cursed under his breath for a minute before following, calling after her to stop. She must have passed a dozen people on her way, but she didn't notice any of them, all she knew was she had to get to Draco.

She had an overwhelming feeling of deja vu, the day Harry had attacked Draco suddenly replaying itself in her mind- the panic and fear that had gripped her that day returning in full force- and once again when she got to the hospital wing the doors slammed against the wall to announce her.

"Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey gave her a disapproving look. "Is it really necessary for you to always enter my hospital with such dramatics?"

"Where is he?" Hermione demanded. "Where's Draco?"

Behind her, the doors opened again to admit Blaise who immediately bent over at the waist, panting.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he panted. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

" _Where's Draco_?" Hermione repeated, her voice shrill and desperate.

"Over here!" Draco's voice floated across the room, his tone laced with humour.

Madame Pomfrey nodded for Hermione to follow and led her towards a closed curtain, behind which Draco sat with his legs hanging over the side of a bed.

"I told you she'd make an entrance," he smirked at the healer. "You owe me a galleon, Poppy."

"I owe you no such thing," the healer pursed her lips at him.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded, not appreciating the humorous glint in her boyfriend's eyes.

"I'll leave you two alone," Madame Pomfrey patted Hermione on the back and slipped out from the curtain.

"What happened?" Hermione repeated angrily, ignoring anything and everything aside from the man sitting on a hospital bed in front of her.

"Come here," Draco reached out and took her hand, pulling her between his legs. "I'm fine."

" _What happened_?" Hermione asked a third time through gritted teeth, enunciating each syllable.

"Take a breath." Draco took her face in his hands, stroking her cheek softly. "I'm fine, everything is fine. Didn't you tell her I was fine?"

This last part he said to Blaise, who had finally joined them still breathing heavily.

"I did, but she was gone before I could even start to explain."

"I swear to Salazar's fucking grave, if someone doesn't tell me what the fuck happened, I'm going to hex you both into another fucking century," Hermione snapped, her voice growing shriller with each word.

"I have never heard you swear that much," Blaise stared at her in shock.

"Draco," she snarled, her eyes dangerously bright.

"Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey showed up," he started to explain. "They were making unfounded, unwarranted accusations and scaring the younger students so I told them to leave and they didn't take kindly to the suggestion. We exchanged a few jinxes and McGonagall sent them packing."

"That doesn't explain what you're doing in the hospital wing," Hermione huffed angrily.

"Pucey ripped open a couple old scars, _that's all_. Poppy fixed me up in no time, and I was just about to head back to the common room."

"Let me see." She pulled at his shirt anxiously, urging him to take it off.

Draco huffed about how unnecessary this was for a moment, then conceded and pulled the shirt over his head, allowing her to examine the marks on his chest.

"See, totally fine." He repeated, as she carefully traced the red marks with her fingers. "Nothing to worry about."

Hermione nodded slowly, not looking completely convinced, but breathing easier than she had been a moment ago.

"If you're going to worry about anyone, you might want to check on Sarah," Draco admitted. "Flint sort of went to town on her, I guess her dad was the one that killed his brother and he's having a hard time dealing with it."

"What did he say?" Hermione frowned, suddenly not so worried about her boyfriend.

"It was all her fault, she was a deatheater whore, those kinds of things," he shook his head.

"She's twelve!"

"It was when I made that very intelligent argument that the first jinx was thrown."

"I should go check on her. Is Ewan still in daycare?" Hermione turned to Blaise.

"I haven't seen him." He shrugged uselessly, making Hermione narrow her eyes in annoyance.

"You're really okay?" She turned back to Draco. "You're not lying to make me feel better? Because you know I hate when you do that."

"I'm really okay," he promised, kissing her forehead. "Go check on Sarah."

Hermione nodded, gave him one last glance up and down,then ran off back to the dorms. As soon as she was gone, Draco got to his feet and smacked Blaise up the backside of his head.

"Ow!"

"What did I say when I sent you back to the dorms?" he demanded. "I was very clear, I said ' _don't_ _tell Hermione I'm in the hospital wing_ ', and what did you do?"

"I told her you were fine!" Blaise cried.

"Exactly! You started with 'everything's fine' which has never in the entire existence of wizard-kind meant that everything is _actually_ fine!"

"I suppose that's true," he allowed. "But I tried!"

"You're a fucking idiot." Draco shook his head disapprovingly, his hand hanging in mid air as he couldn't decide whether or not to hit Blaise again.

"In my defence, I already knew that," Blaise smirked, taking a step back. "And so did you, when you left me in charge of your psychotic girlfriend, so who's the real idiot here?"

"I'm going to hit you." Draco warned, his hovering hand balling into a fist.

"Yeah, I know." Blaise nodded, then took off at a sprint, ignoring Poppy's shouts of protest as Draco chased after him.

* * *

"Sarah?" Hermione knocked at the door softly before letting herself in to find the young brunette curled up on her bed, face buried in a pillow.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back softly. "Draco told me that Marcus and Adrian were here."

Sarah was silent, refusing to look at Hermione as she hugged her pillow tighter.

"None of the things they said were true."

"Of course they were," Sarah sniffled. "My father is a Deatheater, which means I-"

"That is _not_ what that means," Hermione interjected immediately. "You are _nothing_ like your father."

"Everyone says I'm exactly like him," Sarah argued, her voice thick with tears.

"Well then everyone is wrong. You are sweet and kind, you take care of your little brother and your friends-"

"My dad's friends liked him," Sarah said quietly, still facing away from Hermione. "They were always around saying how good he was."

"Was he good to you?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer perfectly well, even before Sarah shook her head.

"Your dad," Hermione continued slowly, trying to find the right words. "Your dad was friends with some very bad people and he made a lot of bad choices, but none of those choices are a reflection on you Sarah."

"Yes they are." Sarah finally turned over to face Hermione, her eyes rimmed red and her cheeks marked by tear tracks. "I see the way they look at me- the way your friends look at me when they're here. They all hold him against me."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "No, they don't blame you."

"They do, and why shouldn't they?!" She cried, sitting up. "It's _my_ dad that killed their brother!"

"That is not your fault," Hermione insisted. "Sarah, what our parents did have nothing to do with the choices _we_ make or the people that we become. Look at Draco. His parents were some of You-Know-Who's most loyal servants, but he's nothing like them is he?"

"No," she said quietly.

"No, because he made his own choices, just like you. If you were the same as your father, would we be friends?" Hermione pulled up her sleeve and showed Sarah the scar that Bellatrix had left her with, the vicious slur that she would carry, carved into her skin, for the rest of her life.

Sarah's face paled and she immediately turned away, more tears pooling in her eyes.

"Sarah, if you were any of the things Marcus Flint said you were, you wouldn't be my friend and you wouldn't be upset by my scars," Hermione pushed on, pulling the younger girl into a hug. "People are upset, and they're going to be upset for a very long time, but you can't let the things they say in anger shape your life. You have to do your best to keep your head up and remember that you're not the person they paint you to be."

"What if you can't?" Sarah sniffed, her voice shaking.

"Then you find a friend to help you," Hermione stroked her hair. "And that friend just happens to be me, because I will always be here to tell you what an amazing girl you are."

Hermione sat back a bit and took Sarah's face in her hands, wiping away her tears in a very motherly way and smiling kindly.

"I'm not going to lie and tell you that things are going to be easy from here out. Our world has been split in half and people have been holding onto House rivalries and biases for so long, it's going to take time to change their minds, but you can't let their ignorance get in the way of your being happy," she continued. "And you can trust me on that, because I have spent the last eight years living through it and it's certainly not going to get easier anytime soon."

"Everyone loves you," Sarah scoffed. "You're part of the Golden Trio."

"I'm also muggleborn- and dating Draco Malfoy," Hermione chuckled.

"But Draco is good, he's part of The Order," Sarah argued.

" _I_ know that, and _you_ know that, but there are a lot of people out there who don't believe it," Hermione shrugged. "They want him to be a bad guy because he's Slytherin and a Malfoy. They don't care about all the things he's done, all the sacrifices he made to help defeat You-Know-Who. They attack him because they think he's an easy target, just like Marcus did to you."

"So that's it? I just have a target on my back and there's nothing I can do about it?!"

"Of course not! What you have to do is prove them all wrong," Hermione smiled. "When I got to Hogwarts, everyone said that I was less of a witch because I'm a Mudblood. Now what do people say?"

"That you're the greatest witch of our age," Sarah answered proudly.

"Exactly. I proved them wrong. That didn't stop them from saying I was less than everyone else, or from printing horrible stories about me in the press- and it's not going to stop them now, but anyone who knows me knows that they're wrong, and they're going to know the same thing about you. Because you, Sarah Rookwood, are a kind, intelligent, loving, beautiful girl who has done nothing wrong in this world. You got handed a shit life, but it hasn't dragged you down, and I'm not going to let it start now."

"We take care of our own," Sarah softly echoed the phrase that Draco, Theo and Blaise were constantly repeating, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"We take care of our own," Hermione agreed, wiping the last few tears from Sarah's face.


	12. Chapter 12

Just as they'd all known she would, Rita Skeeter ruined the delicate peace that had been established in the walls of Hogwarts mere days after she was first allowed inside.

Hermione immediately knew that something was different as she sat down that morning. The whispers were just a little bit louder, the stares that followed her just a little more obvious. It wasn't until she saw that Blaise, Theo and Daphne were watching her strangely, though, that she realized something was actually wrong.

"What?" she frowned at the three Slytherins. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Daphne shook her head quickly, her voice slightly higher than usual. "How was your night? Where's Draco?"

"My night was fine, he's still sleeping, and don't think I didn't see you try to hide that paper Blaise," Hermione reeled on him. "Hand it over."

"You don't want to see that," Theo tried to wave her off. "I mean, it's been years since they've done any _real_ reporting."

"Blaise," Hermione glared dangerously at the Italian. "Give me the paper."

"Stay strong," Theo hissed.

"She's giving me that look, though," Blaise winced, trying not to look directly at the fuming witch hovering over him.

"You can do it!"

"No, you can't." Hermione crossed her arms. "You've got five seconds, and then I start hexing things."

"She's just kidding," Theo tried to encourage.

"I wonder what you'd look like with Spattergroit?" Hermione mused, twirling her wand between her fingers.

Blaise's eyes widened in fear and before Theo could stop him he tossed the paper onto the table for her to take.

"No, don't-" Theo and Daphne both tried to grab it, but Hermione was too quick, her eyes widening and her face twisting angrily as she read the front page.

"That foul, gormless, toxic, twat-faced, shitpouch!"

"Yeah," Daphne winced.

"I am going to kill her!" Hermione screeched. "I am going to put her in a fucking jar and I'm not going to put air holes in it this time!"

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall swept across the hall, a shocked look on her face. "If you insist on screeching profanities and death threats, I must ask that you do so somewhere outside this room!"

"We'll take care of it." Daphne promised, jumping to her feet and gesturing for the boys to follow. "Come on, Hermione."

"I am going to track her down, and I am going to get a hammer, and I am going to beat her with it until she is a broken shell, and then I am going to crush her under my fucking shoe like the bug that she is!" Hermione continued ranting, paying absolutely no attention to her professor or her general surroundings, so encompassed by her rage.

"Let's go, Herms." Blaise said, taking her elbow while Theo took the other, doing their best to propel her out of the room while Daphne trailed behind making apologies.

They made it all the way back to the common room before Hermione's voice gave out from screaming- though that didn't stop her from muttering angry gibberish and coming up with some rather impressive curse words of her own.

"Uh, hello," Draco stopped in the doorway, obviously on his way to breakfast before his friends returned, dragging his girlfriend between them. "Hermione?"

"Wring her by the neck and stomp on her," she muttered, still gripping the newspaper angrily. "Nothing but a fuck-faced, useless, cunt! Couldn't spell her own fucking name without a fucking QuickQuotes Quill..."

"The newspaper upset her a bit," Daphne explained, an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm going to demolish her with the heel of my shoe like the fucking cockroach she is!" Hermione seethed. "Intolerable, half-witted pantywaist of a-"

"Ah, Skeeter," Draco nodded in understanding.

"How did you get that from her psychotic ramblings?" Theo scoffed.

"Practice," Draco shrugged. "Alright, Granger, let me see."

"I'm going to kill her!" She looked up at Draco as he reached for the paper. "I'm serious, Draco. I'm going to put her back in that fucking jar and suffocate her!"

"Okay, well why don't you let me see what she did before you do that?" he suggested calmly, prying the wrinkled pages from her hand.

 **Imperius or Love Potion- Deatheater Seduces Heroine**

"Right," Draco sucked his teeth in annoyance and turned to his friends. "Why would you let her see this?"

"We tried to stop her!" Blaise argued.

"You crumpled like a tower of exploding snap cards!" Theo smacked him, then gestured between himself and Daphne. " _We_ tried to stop her!"

"We did," she agreed.

"I need a jar!" Hermione stormed towards their dorm room, fire in her eyes, but Draco's arm shot out and caught her around the waist.

"Hang on! There's no need to go to Azkaban for that woman!"

"Nobody is going to Azkaban," she scoffed maniacally. "You only go to Azkaban if you get caught, and I will not get caught. I kept that bitch in a jar for a year and I can do it again."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Blaise, Theo and Daphne all shouted at once.

"That is story for another time," Draco waved them off inconsequentially. "The important thing right now is that we keep Hermione in sight at all times and stop her from murdering anyone."

"I think the important thing is finding out about the time Hermione kept a woman in a jar," Theo shook his head.

"She deserved it!" Hermione snapped.

"I'm sure she did," he agreed quickly, putting his hands up and taking a step back in fear.

"Love, take a breath." Draco instructed calmly, placing his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "There's no need to make any rash decisions here."

"I'm not being rash!" she scoffed. "I have never made a rash decision in my life, I've thought this through very carefully."

"Yeah, that's what's worrying us," Daphne muttered.

"Did you even read past the title?" Draco asked, ignoring the eldest Greengrass. "Maybe the article isn't so bad."

"Oh, no, it's bad," Blaise assured him.

"Really bad," Theo agreed.

"Not good at all," Daphne joined in.

"Oi, raise your hand if you're not helping!" Draco snapped, glaring at his friends. "Hermione, you can't kill the woman no matter how much I would thoroughly enjoy helping you."

"Why the fuck not?!" His girlfriend snapped, taking back the paper and angrily skimming the article.

"Are you even hearing yourself? You're talking about murdering someone!"

"Okay, so maybe murder is a bit much," she allowed. "But you can't stop me from putting her back in the tiny jar she fucking belongs in."

"And I have no intention of keeping you from doing that," Draco assured her. "But if you go after her at this exact moment in time, she's going to disappear faster than you can turn her. Your hair is sparking, it's a dead giveaway."

"It is n-"

"It is." All four of them nodded before she could even get the statement out.

"We need a plan," Draco concluded. "You like plans, remember?"

"Don't patronize me!" Hermione snarled, trying to shove him away from her.

"Sorry," he smirked, his hands returning to her waist. "But you know I'm right. So, why don't we sit down and figure out what you want to do about this?"

"I think she's made it pretty clear what she wants to do," Blaise offered.

"NOT HELPING!"

* * *

It had taken a while, but Draco finally convinced Hermione that they should just ignore the article and go on with their lives- with quite a bit of persuasion. They had known that this kind of press would follow them when people found out they were a couple, it wasn't as though it was a surprise, and the only way such stories would gain credence was if they responded.

"Best to ignore it, just like you always have," he insisted, pressing her against the bathroom door and snogging her senseless. "Think of all those times she insisted you and Harry were an item, you never spoke up then."

"She wasn't trying to ruin Harry then, she was trying to ruin me, and Harry is more than used to having things written about him in the papers, he doesn't care." She argued, trying not to let Draco distract her as his lips travelled from the pulse point behind her ear, down to her neck. "This is different."

"I've had plenty of articles written about my family before." Draco scoffed, his teeth scraping against her protruding clavicle. "You remember that I'm part of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, don't you? That's the closest thing we have to royalty, I'm no stranger to gossip columns."

"Those gossip columns weren't accusing you of breaking laws that would get you thrown into Azkaban, when they should be lauding you as a hero, like they are Harry and Ron." Hermione growled, pulling his face back up to hers so she could kiss him.

"Nobody believes the shit that woman writes, love," he smirked. " And anyone with common sense would know that Potter and Weasel wouldn't hesitate to Avada me if they thought the accusations were true."

"I don't care." She gasped as he bit down on her neck, then soothed the mark with his tongue. "I don't want her talking about you like that. It's wrong."

"If you ignore her, she'll find something else to write about," Draco reasoned, his hands slowly drifting across her ribs, counting each one. "If you go after her now, she'll find a way to keep up the rumours for as long as possible."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Merlin, you're sexy when you're plotting someone's murder," Draco hummed, admiring the way her eyes seemed to glow an even brighter shade of lustful hazel than usual. "I could take you right here."

"What's stopping you?" she smirked, melting into his touch.

"I'd rather you didn't go to Azkaban," he whispered, nipping at her ear lobe. "So how about a deal? You promise not to do anything rash, and just ignore that woman and her codswallop article and I'll give you the best shag you've ever had."

His hand slipped below the waist of her trousers and Hermione let out a mix between a gasp and a whimper, her arm tightening around his neck.

"Can I take that as a yes?" Draco teased.

"Mm," she moaned in agreement and let her head fall back against the door, giving herself over to the pleasure he was delivering and completely forgetting what they had been arguing about.

* * *

They were on their way to the library to start restoring the piles of books that had been donated to the school as the Ministry cleared out the estates of condemned Deatheaters, when Skeeter found them.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, just the couple I was looking for!" She greeted them brightly, as though she didn't know they wanted to murder her. "In fact, I've been trying to get a moment with you all week!"

"We're busy, Rita," Hermione snarled, not stopping to talk. "And I don't make it a habit to speak with people who spread horrific lies about my boyfriend."

"Yes, well," Rita's lips pressed together in a thin smile. "If you would like the record set straight, I would suggest an interview. A coming out, if you will."

"We won't," Draco said with finality. "And certainly not with you. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have things to do."

With his arm securely wrapped around Hermione's waist, he manoeuvred them around the insistent cockroach and continued down the corridor purposefully.

"The public will demand an explanation sooner or later, Miss Granger," Rita argued sweetly. "And what is it the muggles say- better the devil you know?"

"The key word there is 'devil'," Hermione sneered as Draco propelled them forward. "And the public can demand whatever they like, that doesn't mean we're going to give it to them. Our personal relationship is a private matter, and that's all I plan to say to anyone who cares to ask."

They were almost at the end of the corridor when Rita called after them again, bringing Hermione's blood to the boiling point.

"So you don't deny the use of any potions or curses as the basis of your relationship?"

Before Draco even realized she had turned around, Hermione had drawn her wand and turned it on Rita, hurtling her back against the wall. As she stalked back towards the self-proclaimed journalist, her hair sparking and her eyes black with anger, Draco felt a shiver go down his spine in anticipation- he had no idea what she was going to do next.

"Listen to me, Rita, and listen well," Hermione hissed angrily. "There is absolutely nothing sinister or illegal about mine and Draco's relationship, in fact it was me that made advances, not him. Your insinuations are completely and utterly false, and if you _ever_ print another article suggesting that Draco would do something so heinous, you will _sorely_ regret it."

"Is that so?" Rita purred, a tight smile on her lips despite the fear in her eyes.

Draco winced, knowing there wasn't a chance he would be able to stop Hermione now, as a dangerously calm smile crossed her face.

With a quick wave of her wand Hermione conjured a small glass jar, holding it in the palm of her hand and passing it back and forth in front of Rita's eyes, taking a not insignificant amount of joy from the way her eyes widened in fear.

"You remember this, don't you?" she asked kindly. "If I recall, you weren't a fan of the year you spent inside, were you?"

"I was not," Rita answered tightly.

"Well you can consider that a tropical vacation compared to what you'll go through if you publish another article like that," Hermione promised. "Because you will _never_ get out again. There won't be any compromises this time- no threats of exposure, no deals in which you work for me in exchange for your freedom and no second chances, so I suggest you listen well. You are going to print a retraction in which you will say that Draco and I have been in a relationship for two years and are very happy together. After that, you will _never_ write about us again- you won't even mention our names, or I will ensure that you are never seen or heard from again. _Do we understand each other_?"

She stared expectantly at the reporter, her wand pointed at the woman's throat and her eyes never wavering. Rita gulped audibly, her eyes darting back and forth as though she expected someone to enter the corridor and help her, but no one came and she eventually gave a sharp nod of agreement.

"Good," the young witch released her captive and immediately relaxed, her face morphing from a look of anger to one of boredom. "It's been lovely speaking with you Rita, I wish you all the best in your future endeavours."

Without another word, she turned and stormed off down the corridor, her head held high.

"A pleasure," Draco said sarcastically. Giving the reporter a sharp nod, he turned and jogged after Hermione, pulling her behind a tapestry the moment they were out of Rita's sight and snogging her senseless.

"Have I ever told you how incredibly fucking sexy you are when you threaten people?" he gasped between kisses. "Merlin, I could take you right here."

"I'll keep that in mind." Hermione smirked, then breathed in sharply as he tugged at her hair, pulling her head to the side to get better access to her neck. "Mm, we're supposed to be in the library."

"The books can wait," Draco assured her, gripping her thighs and urging her to wrap her legs around his waist as he lifted her.

* * *

"You're late," Theo drawled as they walked into the library twenty minutes later, not bothering to look up from his work.

"We had things to do," Draco shrugged vaguely.

"Uh-huh. Hermione's shirt is inside out."

"Shit!" She cursed and ducked behind a shelf, pulling the shirt off and putting it on properly before anyone else noticed, while Draco simply smirked.

"That would be _things_."

* * *

"You seem oddly chipper," Ginny observed as she joined Hermione and the boys, repairing and sorting through all the books that had been wrecked during the battle and collected from the homes of families who hadn't survived.

"I mean, you saw the paper, didn't you? I'd have thought you'd be fuming."

"You didn't see her this morning," Theo scoffed.

"The hair?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Sparks."

"Dammit! I can't believe I missed that!"

"Yes it's super fun talking your girlfriend down from murder," Draco rolled his eyes.

"It certainly sounded fun," Theo quipped. "Really mate, if you're going to bribe a bird with mind blowing sex, you should really cast a silencing charm first."

"Hermione!" Ginny scolded her friend lightly. "You caved because of a sub-par shag?!"

"There was nothing sub-par about it," Draco bragged, smiling suggestively.

"Ugh, I don't want to know!" Theo groaned, clamping his hands over his ears, while Ginny only raised an eyebrow at Hermione, obviously waiting for her to expand.

"It was really good," Hermione admitted sheepishly, a deep blush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest. "And I didn't cave, I agreed to a compromise."

Ginny chuckled. "What kind of compromise?"

"I agreed to be the bigger person and ignore it," Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "And then she followed us into an empty corridor and suggested that Draco was drugging me, so I reminded her how unpleasant living in a jar could be and assured her that if she crossed me again, the jar wouldn't have air holes."

The evil glint in her eye was enough to make Ginny shudder, but Draco only watched his girlfriend with a satisfied smirk

"You've been spending far too much time with the snakes, Mione," Ginny shook her head. "I mean, you were scary before, but this is a whole new level."

"Isn't it great?" Draco smirked lustfully.

"Ugh, there are other people here, you know," Ginny's face wrinkled in disgust. "Please refrain from looking at my best friend like she's a piece of meat. Honestly, is it like this all the time?" She turned to Theo expectantly.

"You learn to ignore them after a while," he shrugged. "Like convincing yourself that your parents don't have sex, or blood pudding isn't just a giant scab."

"Merlin's balls, you're making it worse!" she chucked a book at his head.

"They shagged in the corridor right after their little face-off." Theo pushed on, deciding that he quite enjoying the horrified look on the redhead's face. "Couldn't even be bothered putting their clothes on right."

"STOP!" Ginny whined, clamping her hands over her ears as he had done only a moment before.

"You're all being children," Hermione said haughtily. "Honestly, Ginny, it's not as if you haven't put me through the same thing."

"I have not!"

"Oh please! I've had to sit next to Harry when you start eye fucking each other! It's like watching porn while you sit with your parents."

"Okay, this conversation has taken a nauseating turn." Draco cringed, in no mood to discuss Potter and Weaselette's sex life. "Let's change topics before wands need to be drawn."

"Excellent plan. Are we going to be reimbursed for our efforts helping you move this weekend?" Theo asked.

"Reimbursed?" Hermione frowned.

"Yeah. Food, firewhiskey, what are we talking?" he pushed. "I don't offer my services without some sort of reward."

"What services?" Draco snorted. "We've all got wands, there's absolutely no manual labour involved!"

"I promise to feed you before the day's over. We'll order pizza or something," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Order pizza?" All three of her companions frowned at her in confusion, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"Gods, you lot really are sheltered!" she shook her head. "Don't worry, you'll love it."


	13. Chapter 13

"Where are we going?" Draco groaned, trudging behind Hermione as she dragged him through Diagon Alley.

"I only know one place to buy furniture here, and the last time I was there I was followed by a half a dozen reporters who wouldn't stop flashing pictures, making comments and asking questions about my bloody choice in dishtowels," she explained irritably. "So unless you'd like photographs of us trying out mattresses to grace the cover of the Prophet tomorrow, we're going shopping in Muggle London."

"We need to go to Gringotts first then," he tugged at Hermione's hand, bringing them to a stop. "We'll need Muggle cash."

"I've got my muggle bank card," she pulled her purse from the pocket of her robes and waved it at him. "Now hurry up, if we stand here any longer they're going to find us."

She started to walk again, but got pulled back when Draco's arm was fully extended as he was still rooted to the cobblestones.

"We're using _my_ money, remember?" he quirked an eyebrow. "Or, as I like to call it, _our money._ "

"Oh, for Godric's sake Malfoy, you can put the money back into my account when we're done!" Hermione cried exasperatedly. "I'll let you merge the bloody accounts if it means we get off this street before a reporter finds us. Happy?!"

Draco absolutely beamed, quickly closing the distance between them and kissing Hermione's cheek. "That makes me _very_ happy."

"Mr. Malfoy!" a high-pitched voice called out behind them and both Draco and Hermione winced.

"I told you they were going to find us," Hermione hissed. "But you just _had_ to argue, didn't you?"

"There was no arguing," he argued. "You caved almost immediately."

Before she could refute this claim, he pulled her into his side and apparated them away, flashing the reporte a dapper grin as he turned.

* * *

"What kind of a name is _Ikea_?" Draco demanded as they stepped through the automatic doors of the warehouse.

"It's Swedish," Hermione explained. "And before you start complaining about the names of the products, they're all Swedish too."

"Why?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion, making him look rather adorable in Hermione's opinion- not that she was going to tell him that. It would make him absolutely insufferable for the rest of the day.

"Because that's where the company is from," she shrugged. "Now, what do you want to look at first, sofas or bed frames?"

"Is that really a question?" Draco cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I said bed _frames_ not mattresses," Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco's face fell at the clarification and he gave a morose shrug. "In that case, I don't care."

"You're ridiculous," Hermione laughed. "Come on, we'll start with sofas."

"Here's an idea," Draco offered, pushing a trolley ahead of him as they walked. "We could just take that sofa we used to sleep on in the Room of Hidden Things."

"Other than the fact that that would be stealing?" Hermione asked, linking her arm through his. "I don't think the room is there anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Draco frowned. "We just used it."

"Not the Room of Requirement." She shook her head, stopping in front of a display of candle lanterns and tossing a few in the trolley. "I mean the Room of Hidden things, specifically. It was destroyed during the battle, Goyle burned it with fiendfyre."

"Really?" Draco's shoulders slumped. "That's disappointing. I have a lot of good memories on that sofa."

"Well, we'll just have to make new memories," Hermione leaned into him happily.

"An excellent plan. What about this one?" He stopped in front of a modern looking white sofa that bore more of a resemblance to a daybed than a sofa, but Hermione shook her head, her face twisted in disinterest.

"It looks like something you'd find in a mind healer's office. What about this one?" She led him over to a large three-seater with overstuffed cushions and arms that were the perfect height to use as pillows when you wanted to take a nap. It also happened to be bright red.

"Not a chance," Draco bit out a laugh. "That one."

He pointed to the same sofa, this time in emerald green and Hermione shook her head disapprovingly.

"Okay, you know what, no house colours," she decided, rolling her eyes. "Brown, black or grey."

"What's wrong with white?" Draco asked, pointing to a leather sectional of the same colour.

"We'd have to clean it all the time- have you met our friends? They're stains in and of themselves."

"Well I don't like brown," he said, making a face.

"So black or grey," Hermione shrugged. "Fine... not that it matters, I suppose we can make it any colour we want."

"That's true," Draco chuckled. "See what shopping like a Muggle does? We forget we have magic."

"Shh," she put a hand over his mouth, laughing. "Someone will hear you."

"I don't think they care, love." He pointed out, waving around at the other couples that surrounded them- all of whom were too busy arguing with their own partners to care about anyone else.

It was less than five minutes before Hermione and Draco fell into the same stereotype, loudly and energetically discussing which sofa they should buy, each of them finding something they didn't like with every one they tried.

"No leather!" Hermione cried. "Every time you try to get comfortable either your legs slide out from under you, or you end up on the floor."

"How are you sitting, that you end up on the floor?!" Draco demanded. "That's ridiculous."

"Hey, when you find a comfortable reading position you stick to it, it doesn't matter if you look silly," she argued. "No leather."

"No denim!" Draco countered, looking in disgust at how many options there were in said fabric. "What is it with you lot and your denim? It's so... uncivilized."

"Wow, you are a prick!" Hermione laughed. "Honestly, it's like you're talking about someone wearing a paper bag."

"They might as well be," he sneered.

"Okay, when we're done here, we're going to buy you a pair of denims and you're going to eat those words."

"I doubt that," Draco scoffed.

"Have you not figured out yet that you should never doubt me?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have, but you're wrong this time," he shrugged. "Sorry."

"You will be when you see how right I am, but we're getting off topic," Hermione frowned. "Pick a sofa!"

"I've picked _eight_ sofas, you didn't like any of them!"

"Because they were awful. It's like you've never used a sofa before!"

"No, you're just being overly critical," Draco argued.

"Well _excuse me_ for wanting our home to be perfect!" she snapped. "What about that one?"

They both turned to look at a charcoal grey sofa on the far corner of the floor, presumably from the previous season as it was tucked behind a collection of space-age themed armchairs.

"That one could work," Draco allowed, sounding less sceptical. "Let's see if its actually comfortable."

Leaving their trolley where it was, they picked their way through the collection of armchairs and dropped onto the sofa unceremoniously. As soon as they fell into the perfectly stuffed cushions, they both turned to face the other with a grin. It was _exactly_ what they were looking for- comfortable, but not so soft that they sank too deep into the cushions, and upholstered with a soft yet durable fabric that Hermione was sure would be able to hold up against their rowdy friends.

"This one," they said in unison.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Draco chuckled. "It only took half a lifetime."

"You're such a drama queen," Hermione mocked. "Come on, we've got to pick out reading chairs."

Thankfully that was a far easier task than choosing a sofa, as they split up to pick their own. Draco opted for a dark green, high backed chair that had a business-like air about it- the kind of chair you might expect to find in a successful solicitor's office. Hermione, on the other hand, had found a chair that hung from the ceiling. It was designed in a shape similar to a hammock, with a high back and deep seat that allowed for a large cushion without making the seat uncomfortably small. It would be perfect for the many exotic positions she tended to assume when entranced by a good book, and even had room for plenty of pillows just the way she liked it.

"It's certainly... different," Draco observed when she dragged him over to look at her amazing find.

"It's perfect," Hermione beamed excitedly. "We can hang it from that beam in the very top corner of the loft."

"Whatever you want, love," he chuckled, kissing her temple. "But are you sure you want to be hanging from the ceiling when you read? I mean, you have been known to fall-"

"Hush!" She scolded, placing her hand over his mouth before he could finish. "This is the perfect chair and you are not going to ruin it for me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco bit back a smile. "Shall we move on to beds?"

"Bed _frames_ ," Hermione corrected for the second time. "We're not getting a mattress here."

"Why not?"

"Because we're going to go to a different store for that," she said plainly. "Come on."

Looking up at the directory that hung from the ceiling, she led the way through the labyrinth of displays in search of bedroom sets, returning to the sofas and chairs three times before they finally found their way with the help of another young couple that they passed who were in search of office furniture.

"I feel like I'm in that bloody maze they built for the Triwizard Tournament," Draco muttered. "They should really have better signage in this place."

"Yeah, that's a common problem here," Hermione agreed. "But you find all kinds of fun stuff while you're lost."

She held up the multiple packages of twinkle lights she had found as an example, smiling triumphantly.

"I still don't know why we need _twelve_ strands," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Because twinkle lights are wonderful!" Hermione cooed. "It doesn't matter where you put them, they make everything look prettier. Just wait until after Christmas when they're on sale, I'll be able to get them for every room!"

"Something to look forward to," he said sarcastically.

"You'll see," she insisted. "You're gonna love them. Finally, beds!"

They turned one final corner as the other couple had instructed them and found themselves surrounded by bedroom displays for all ages and sizes.

"First things first, what size do we want?"

"The big kind," Draco said obviously. "Why would we want a small bed?"

"I'm not even going to answer that," Hermione laughed. "So, which one do you like?"

She gestured to the options in front of them, knowing that he was going to be the over-critical one this time. While Draco strolled through each and every display, studying them closely, Hermione trailed after him with the trolley and made a mental list of what they still needed to buy. She'd made it all the way to power socket covers when he finally spoke up.

"I don't like any of them," he decided.

"You're impossible, do you know that?" Hermione bit back a smile, not wanting to encourage him.

"I'm not, I just have standards," Draco argued. "And none of these beds are up to the standard that I hold for our home. Like you said, I want it to be perfect and these are all unworthy of us."

"You know how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

"Oi, you want your chair to hang from the ceiling, have a bit of perspective."

"Fair point," Hermione allowed. "Well, if none of these are up to your _regal_ standards, I know where else we can go. Come on, let's pay for all this and arrange for the chairs and sofa to be delivered and then we can go."

"Do we have to take another cab?" Draco cringed. "Because I really think one was enough."

"I don't understand what you find so horrible about cab rides," she shook her head disbelievingly. "I have personally seen you hurtle head first towards the ground going close to 80 kilometres on a broom, that's _thousands_ of times more dangerous than a ruddy cab!"

"It definitely isn't," he shook his head. "Brooms have safety charms, what do cabs have? Bags of air? That doesn't sound very helpful in the event of a crash."

"Oh, I am not explaining this again," Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Come on, I know an alley we can apparate into when we're done here."

* * *

"See, why didn't we start with this place?" Draco asked as they strolled through John Lewis. "Their products seem far more appropriate."

"More appropriate?" Hermione chuckled.

"You don't have to assemble this furniture yourself, it's far more high-brow," he explained.

"My Gods, what have I gotten myself into?" Hermione groaned, leaning into his side dramatically.

"I believe the phrase is 'dating up'," Draco smirked.

"I believe you're going to be finding your own way home," she scoffed, shoving him jovially.

"I'm sorry." He pulled her along with him, draping his arm around her. "Would you like to go get our bed from one of Mundungus's sales?"

"I think we can find a comfortable middle," she rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, we'll work on this. Before you know it, I'll have you shopping at the second-hand store and eating leftover take-away straight from the container."

Draco's face twisted into an expression of worried disgust and Hermione laughed brightly, an evil glint in her eye as she led him towards the escalator.

"Come on, I'll let you pick out the bed for the guest room as well," she patted his arm patronizingly.

* * *

"Too lumpy," Draco shook his head less than a second after laying down on the first mattress.

"Too hard," he declared the second.

On and on it went- Too soft. Too much lumbar support. Not enough lumbar support. The wrong colour-

"The wrong colour?!" Hermione cried. "You _can't_ be serious, Draco!"

"Of course I'm serious," he scoffed. "I will not sleep on a pink mattress."

"You are never going to see the mattress after this!" she argued. "It's going to be completely covered after it's delivered."

"Yes, but I'll know that it's pink," he insisted. "And I'll spend the rest of my life feeling like I'm sleeping in that horrible tea shop in Hogsmeade."

"You're ridiculous," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And I'm okay with that," Draco assured her. "Shall we try the next one?"

"I have a better idea," she collapsed onto the closest mattress. "How about I lay here comfortably and take a nap, and you let me know when you've found a mattress that reaches your aristocratic standards?"

"Fine." Draco loomed over her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

She had actually almost fallen asleep when he finally called her over nearly twenty minutes later, announcing that he'd found 'The One'.

"This is the greatest mattress I've ever felt," he hummed happily as she approached. "It's even better than the ones at Hogwarts."

"I'm so glad you've found each other," Hermione chuckled. "Can we move on to picking a bed frame now?"

"Aren't you going to lay down and try this mattress?"

"I trust your judgement," she shook her head. "And besides, if it's absolutely horrid I can just sleep on you."

Draco let out a snort of laughter, then swung his legs onto the floor and stood up, draping his arm around her. "Alright, let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

"So, are you still moving in together?" Blaise asked as Draco and Hermione sat down across from him in the great hall for dinner.

"Of course we are," Draco frowned. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because you can be an absolute arse," Daphne answered plainly. "And there's nothing like a day at the shops to make that aggressively obvious to everyone around you."

"That's not true!" Draco looked to Hermione to back him up and she had to bite back a laugh.

"No," she assured him. "You are, however, a complete and total drama queen."

"Excuse me?!"

"Draco, it was like listening to the world's longest rendition of Goldilocks and the Three Bears when you picked out a mattress!"

"Goldi-what now?" Theo frowned.

"It's a muggle bedtime story," Hermione explained. "It's about a picky little girl who can't seem to decide on anything."

"Oh, that sounds exactly like Draco then," he nodded. "How long did it take him to choose?"

"I had time to take a nap."

"You did not!" Draco argued.

"I did," she laughed. "You tried every damn one!"

"He did the same thing our first night at Hogwarts," Blaise chuckled. "Wouldn't let anyone go to sleep until he'd tried each of the beds to find the best one."

"Yeah, that's what today was like," Hermione smiled. "Hence the decision to take a nap. But I'm going to fix him, don't worry."

"Really?" Astoria asked, eyebrows raised. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, because we've been trying for years and nothing's ever come of it."

"Sexual favours," Hermione shrugged, making everyone choke.

"Well," Blaise cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "We never tried that."

"It works wonders," Hermione smirked, continuing to pick at her food nonchalantly, while the rest of the table watched her with scandalized expressions.

"You can't even comprehend how much I wish Potter and the Weasel had been here to hear you say that," Draco gasped, laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes.

Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him and stood up from the table.

"I'm going to go see Sarah and Ewan," she announced, ignoring the disapproving looks Draco was shooting between her and her plate. "Why don't you tell Blaise and Theo about the bunk beds we got for the guest room?"

* * *

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" Sarah asked, curled into Hermione's side in one of the oversized armchairs in the common room, while Ewan sat in her lap.

"I wouldn't call it leaving," Hermione corrected. "I'm just not going to be sleeping down the hall. I'll still be here every day."

"But you won't be here when we go to sleep anymore," Sarah frowned.

"No more Pooh?" Ewan asked sadly.

"Of course we'll still read Pooh," Hermione promised. "And all sorts of other books. I know this seems like a big change, but you'll barely notice after a day or two. Besides, without me here to keep them in line, I bet Theo and Blaise will be causing all sorts of trouble around here."

This brought a smile to Sarah's face.

"Blaise taught me how to do a summoning charm today," she admitted sheepishly.

"Did he?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"Mmhm. He said not to tell you, though."

"I bet he did. Well, how did you do?"

Sarah launched excitedly into the story of how Blaise and Theo had helped her practice while they repaired a classroom and how she'd hit both boys in the head quite a few times when they got in her way, all sadness over Hermione and Draco's impending move suddenly forgotten.

* * *

Hermione barely slept that night, too busy worrying over the next day. Harry had said he was going to try and bring Ron with him, and she still couldn't decide whether she was happy about that or not.

The last time they had spoken, he had called her a 'Deatheater's Whore' before being dragged away by one of his brothers. After that she had given him space, checking on his well-being through third parties and doing her best to stay out of his way when she spent any time at the Burrow- that had been two months ago.

According to Ginny, he was doing better. He had stopped drinking so much and was even helping George to get out of the house whenever possible, but that didn't stop Hermione worrying. The war had made him different, just as it had all of them, and she didn't know how to act with him anymore. She had loved him for so long- romantically and platonically- and the thought of not having him in her life made her heart ache, but what if he didn't feel the same? What if he had realized that he didn't need her at all, that her friendship all these years had been nothing but a convenience and he didn't want to associate with her anymore?

As her brain ran circles around this idea, sending her deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of her own consciousness, she couldn't stand the inactivity of laying in bed and so began to pace. The heavy carpet muffled the sounds of her footsteps, so she walked back and forth, from one end of the dorm to the other without worrying that she would wake the other occupants. Unfortunately pacing only served to make her mind work faster, a new idea popping into her head with each step, as she analyzed each and every aspect of her friendship with Ron for the last seven years, poring over memories and twisting them into tales that bore no resemblance to the reality with the aid of her anxiety.

When pacing was no longer enough to keep her busy, her hands needing something to do as well, Hermione decided to empty out and repack the trunk at the end of Draco's bed. She only succeeded in starting the first half of the task, however, before her mind latched onto a new realization.

Sitting on the floor, her legs crossed, she looked around at the small collection of clothes and books carefully arranged before her and felt her breath catch in her throat and tears prick the backs of her eyes- this was everything she owned in the world. Some clothes and a few muggle books. Sure, she and Draco had just spent a week buying everything they would need for their flat- and the flat itself- but that was _their_ stuff, not _hers_.

In the whole world, the only things she had that were hers alone were scattered on the floor in front of her and while she had never been a material person, that thought made her sadder than she had ever imagined it would.

"Granger?" Blaise's voice cut through the darkened room, rough with sleep. "What are you doing?"

"I-I was just packing." Hermione said quietly, wiping away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks.

"You were already packed," he pointed out, sitting up in bed. "You alright?"

"Fine," she nodded quickly, refusing to turn and look at him.

"Just throwing it out there, but if you were really fine you would probably be sleeping right now instead of sitting on the floor with all your shit scattered in front of you."

Hermione said nothing to this, which Blaise seemed to take as an invitation to continue.

"So why are you actually sitting on the floor staring at all your shit?"

"Because this _is_ all my shit." She shrugged, a short breath escaping through her nose. "It's all right here."

"I'm not following." Blaise shook his head, crawling down to sit on the end of his bed.

"This is it," she sniffed. "This is everything I own in the world."

"Granger, you're moving into a new flat tomorrow- well, today actually- all your stuff is going to be there."

"It's not the same, though," Hermione sighed. "The flat and all the stuff we've bought, it's not _mine._ It's mine and Draco's."

"Still not following." Blaise frowned apologetically.

"That's cause I'm being stupid." She finally turned to look at him, forcing a smile onto her face. "I'm fine, really. Just excited for tomorrow. You should go back to sleep."

"So should you," he pointed out.

"I will- I am," she pushed herself up off the floor. "I am. I'm going to bed right now."

"Alright then." Blaise smiled and got to his feet, heading towards the bathroom. "Night, Granger."

"Goodnight."

She waved her wand and crawled back into bed beside Draco as the trunk repacked itself, praying that her mind would shut up long enough that she could get a little sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco was up with the sun, too excited to sleep any longer. Today was the day that he really and truly got away from his past- the day that he wiped the slate clean and started fresh, just him and Hermione.

He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head in his hand, and watched her as she slept peacefully beside him. Reaching out carefully and brushing a stray curl from her face, he smiled as her nose twitched ever so slightly at the feeling. He would give up every single galleon in the Malfoy vault if it meant he could wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life.

Figuring that she hadn't slept well the night before, since she was usually up before he was, Draco decided to get up and get a cup of tea before breakfast and leave her to sleep as long as possible. He was on his way out the door when Blaise hissed at him to wait until he was dressed.

"You're up early," Blaise observed as they walked together to the kitchens. "Excited about the move?"

"Yeah," Draco smiled. "It's a real fresh start, you know? No awful memories around every corner, no reminders of my parents or You-Know-Who, just me and Hermione."

"Good, you deserve it, both of you," Blaise clapped his friend on the back. "All the shit you two have been through, you deserve to be happy."

"We all do."

"Ain't that the truth," Blaise agreed. "I actually wanted to talk to you about Hermione."

"What about her?" Draco frowned.

"I got up in the night and found her just sitting on the floor with all her shit scattered around, she seemed kind of upset about it. I asked her if she was alright and she just said something about it being all she had- I didn't really understand what she meant and she went back to bed, but I thought you'd want to know," he explained. "I don't know, she just seemed... off. Like she is on her bad days, you know?"

Draco nodded along as his friend spoke, trying to figure out what might have been going through his girlfriend's mind.

"I'll talk to her," he finally decided. "Thanks for telling me."

"Of course," Blaise shrugged. "I like Granger- we all do. It kind of feels like we've been friends with her for years."

"Yeah, she does that," Draco smiled fondly. "She weasels her way into your life and you feel like you've never been without her."

"She'd have made a right brilliant Slytherin," Blaise mused.

"Tell me about it," Draco laughed. "You should have seen her take on that Skeeter woman last week. It was the most terrifying, awe-inspiring, sexy thing I have ever seen in my life."

"So I heard," Blaise smirked, knocking shoulders with him. "You should really work on getting your clothes in order before you emerge from your secret liaisons, you know."

"Ha ha," Draco shoved him away, rolling his eyes.

* * *

They took their tea back to the common room, along with an elaborate tray of food that Blaise charmed Fizzle into giving them so they wouldn't have to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and chatted aimlessly while they waited for the rest of the dorm to wake up.

There weren't many of them left in the castle, most students having returned to their parent's or found other family to take them in in the months since May 2nd. Only Theo, Blaise and Draco remained of the older Slytherin students, the Greengrass sisters having returned home, and then there was Sarah and Ewan, and a third year girl named Evelyn. Evelyn's older brother was in Hufflepuff, though, and so she spent almost all her time in his dorms.

They really had become a disjointed family, taking special care of Sarah and Ewan- and Evelyn when she was around- making sure that they ate and comforting them when they had nightmares or missed their parents. Draco couldn't help but smile when he watched Hermione read to the Rookwoods, both children cuddled close to her, hanging off her every word as she shared the muggle stories that had created her own childhood. She was determined to make sure that they had proper childhoods, that their lives weren't permanently plagued by the war like their own were, and it made him love her even more. Here were two children who she had absolutely no attachments to- had never even met before stepping into the ballroom in Blaise's manor- but she had taken them under her wing without hesitation, caring for them as if they were her own siblings, with no regard for what anybody else thought. She saw two children that needed a family, and she had been more than happy to give them one.

It was while Draco was thinking about this that Ewan stumbled into the common room, dragging his teddy bear behind him and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Hey, mate!" Blaise greeted the little boy, holding his hand out invitingly, but Ewan strolled right past his chair to climb onto the sofa and cuddle next to Draco, using his lap for a pillow.

"You've gone soft, mate!" Blaise laughed as Draco smiled fondly at the little boy and rubbed his back soothingly.

"It's a good look on you," Daphne Greengrass observed, stepping through the fireplace.

"Don't you be getting any ideas Miss Greengrass," Blaise scolded comically. "He's a taken man, he is."

"He's not my type," she promised, giving Blaise a devilish smirk. "Is Hermione not up yet?"

"No," Draco shook is head. "And what do you mean I'm not your type? I'm everyone's type!"

Blaise snorted. "Not unless ghostly pale and snarky has suddenly become universally attractive."

"Can I just point out that _I'm_ the one moving in with my girlfriend today?" Draco demanded. "And the only person in this room who can boast a long term relationship?"

"All that tells us is that Hermione has bad taste in men." Daphne shook her head, sitting down on the sofa and tickling Ewan, making him giggle.

"And a good morning to you too." The witch in question frowned, pulling her hair into a bun as she trudged into the room, her eyes barely open.

"I think you have excellent taste," Draco said quickly, holding his hand out to beckon her over.

"I would hope so." Hermione said, scooping Ewan into her arms and taking his spot in Draco's lap. "Who wouldn't think you're a catch, Ewan?"

The little boy giggled as Draco glared, thoroughly unimpressed by the turn Hermione's compliment had taken.

"You little woman stealer," he frowned, tickling Ewan's sides. "What are you playing at, hm?"

"No Daco! No!" Ewan giggled, squirming onto the floor.

"It is far too early for this," Hermione groaned, summoning a cup of coffee to her hand.

"See, this is why you should sleep at night instead of packing things that were already packed," Blaise frowned. "You're grumpy when you don't sleep."

"Piss off, Zabini."

"I rest my case," he smirked. "So, when exactly are we going to see this mysterious flat of yours?"

"All the deliveries are between 10 and 4," Hermione offered between sips. "So we have to be there around 9:30."

"Right, so Draco you've got an hour to improve your love's mood." Blaise nodded to his friend as though giving him his orders. "Off you go."

Hermione growled at him over the rim of her coffee cup, making to reach for her wand, but Draco's arms came around her before she could grab it, securing her hand with his own.

"Seriously, you should be in a far better mood right now!" Blaise pushed on. "It's moving day!"

"Ewan, go beat Blaise up for Hermione," Draco whispered conspiratorially to the toddler, who had started inching his way back to the sofa

Ewan grinned at this and with an adorable roar, ran across the room, his arms outstretched.

"Come here." Draco tapped Hermione's hip softly, signalling her to get off him, then stood and gestured for her to follow him now that Ewan was distracted.

"Where are we going?" Hermione complained, trying and failing to grab her coffee as he pulled her away.

"Here."

He pulled her around the corner and pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately.

"We're moving in together this morning," he smirked against her lips.

"Mm," Hermione hummed satedly, her arms wrapping around his neck. "We are."

"So why exactly were you up in the middle of the night unpacking your things?"

"Traitor!" Hermione hissed, glaring back towards the common room, where she could still hear Blaise pretending to beg for mercy.

"He was concerned," Draco defended him. "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she grumbled. "And I don't appreciate you trying to snog information out of me."

"It's always proved a fail safe tactic," he shrugged. "I didn't know you had a problem with it. I can stop if you like."

"I'd like it if you stopped doing it to lull me into a false sense of security," she frowned.

"It's not false," Draco reasoned calmly. "You're always safe with me."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I'm sorry," he acquiesced. "I didn't mean to lull you into a false sense of security. I _do_ want to know what was going through that pretty head of yours, though."

Hermione leaned her head back against the wall and trained her eyes on the ceiling, letting out an exasperated breath of defeat.

"Everything I own is in that trunk," she finally spoke quietly.

"What do you mean?" Draco stroked her cheek softly, willing her to look at him. "We just bought a flat."

"That's _ours._ It's different," she shook her head.

"How?" Draco asked, his tone earnestly interested instead of confused and vaguely mocking as she'd expected.

"The flat, all the things that we've bought for it, it's not mine," Hermione tried to explain herself. "It's ours, and I love that it's ours, I'm not saying I don't want it-" She shook her head quickly, trying to put her thoughts together in a more coherent way.

"The things in that trunk," she started again, slowly. "They're all I have left. A few books and some clothes, that's it. That's all I have to show for my entire life."

Draco nodded, understanding what she meant now, and brushed a tear from her cheek.

"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled tightly and nodded, letting out a shaky breath. She didn't want to put a damper on the day, he was so excited to be moving.

"It just kind of hit me last night," she shrugged. "I was worried about seeing Ron and I worked myself into a tailspin and..." She waved her hand in a 'here-we-are' gesture.

"Why are you worried about seeing Ron?" Draco frowned. "I thought you wanted to see him, to try and get back to the way things were."

"I do," she nodded quickly. "That's why I'm worried. What if he doesn't want to make things right? What if all this time he never really wanted my friendship at all, he just got stuck with me?"

"That's ridiculous," Draco shook his head. "Why wouldn't he want you in his life?"

"We're always fighting and shouting at each other, and we never agree on anything- we don't even share any interests," Hermione tried to explain, feeling herself getting worked up again. "What if all this time he was just putting up with me because I'm friends with Harry?"

"Then he's an idiot," Draco smiled reassuringly. "Because anyone who spends more than five minutes of their life with you and doesn't want to be your friend, is absolutely barking mad."

"You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend," she frowned.

"We can go take a poll if you like." Draco offered, taking a step back towards the common room. "Blaise was just saying this morning how much you've grown on him-"

"There's no need for that." Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back to her, her arms encircling his torso. Draco smiled and rested his forehead against hers, one hand coming up to cup her cheek.

"He's going to make whatever choice he's going to make, and no amount of worry or stress you put on yourself is going to change that," he said softly. "All you can do is remember that you have so many other friends that care about you and want you to be happy. Today is our fresh start, and no matter what Weasley decides, you still have me."

* * *

"You had to be on the top floor?" Blaise complained, trudging up the stairs to the new flat with Draco's trunk floating in front of him. "And couldn't you have found a flat that came with a lift?!"

"Oh, get over it!" Ginny hissed. "It's three stories, you'll make it. Is he usually like this?" She directed the question at Sarah, who was climbing the stairs between her and Blaise.

"Always," Sarah assured her, wrinkling her nose derisively.

"Oi! Whose side are you on?" Blaise hissed.

"There are no sides," Ginny rolled her eyes. "She's just telling the truth."

"Exactly," Sarah nodded.

"Hermione has ruined you," Blaise glared at her.

"I heard that!" the curly haired witch called down the stairs. "And I most certainly have not!"

"You have!" he insisted, coming to a stop on the landing.

"How have I ruined her?" Hermione demanded, standing in the doorway holding Ewan on her hip and glaring at Blaise, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

"I... can't think of a specific reason right now," he admitted lamely. "But you have!"

"Shut up and get inside." She rolled her eyes, stepping out of the doorway and shoving Blaise through it.

"Behold, the ghost of things to come," Ginny smiled bemusedly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Standing in the door with a toddler on your hip, ordering Zabini around like one of the boys," she explained. "It looks good on you."

"Thank you?" Hermione frowned, not quite sure if she should take this as a compliment.

"You're welcome." Ginny smirked, stepping inside and leaving Hermione and Sarah in the hallway giving each other confused looks.

"Come on," Hermione finally nodded to the younger girl excitedly. "Let's get started."

* * *

Hermione stepped back to admire her work, tilting her head to one side. She had just finished painting the curved wall in their bedroom a dusty plum colour to accent the dark purple pillows she'd bought for their bed and the light grey of the other two walls. She'd decided that purple was a safe colour, since it didn't have any house affiliations, and after all, it was her favourite.

The guest bedroom had been painted a blue-grey colour so their friends couldn't argue about whether or not it was a Gryffindor or Slytherin room, and charmed so that they couldn't change the colours of the walls themselves.

She'd decided to leave the rest of the rooms untouched, opting to cover the white-grey walls with photographs and art and using blankets and knick-knacks to brighten up the space.

"Well, it's certainly bright," Draco assured her, standing behind her with his arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Good, that's the idea," she smiled, reaching her hand up to rub his neck. "Our home is going to be bright and happy and wonderful."

"Of course it is," he kissed her cheek. "But are you sure about the purple, because I really think a nice green-"

"Out!" Hermione pulled out of his grasp immediately, pointing him towards the door.

"I'm just sugge-"

"OUT!" She repeated, trying her best to glare at the blonde as he left, laughing uproariously. "Make yourself useful and put the bookshelves together upstairs!"

"You realize he's only suggesting it to mess with you, right?" Theo leaned against the door frame, smirking.

"I'm well aware," Hermione assured him, biting back a smile of her own..

"Just checking. So, what would you have us do next, slave driver that you are?"

"I should take your wands away and watch you try to put all the furniture together the muggle way, the way you lot keep complaining," Hermione scolded, leading him back out to the kitchen. "Honestly, you're worse than children! _Literally-_ Ewan is being far more helpful."

She gestured to the counter, where Ewan was stood helping Ginny put all their new dishes away in cupboards, while Sarah organized the potions ingredients in the pantry.

"That's because you've brainwashed them," Theo explained slowly. "You've somehow convinced them that they should do the work instead of the House Elves."

Both Ginny and Draco let out a shout of protest, but it was too late, Hermione's eyes were already blazing.

"Theodore Nott, elves were not created for the sole purpose of catering to your every whim! You cannot expect them to do everything for you, they are magical creatures just like you and I and you should give them the respect they deserve. They work themselves to the bone for their whole lives, and what do they get in return? Abuse and poverty and despicable living conditions, and wizards and witches who can't even raise their wands to do things for themselves because why should they bother when there's a house elf to do it for them?!" She ranted angrily, shoving her finger into Theo's chest every once in a while, as he looked around for someone to help him.

Neither Ginny or Draco stepped forward, however. He had brought it on himself, after all, it wasn't like Hermione's views on House Elf Rights were a secret. It wasn't until someone started knocking at the door that Hermione finally let him off, her face red and her hair slightly bushier than it had been when she started shouting.

"Let that be a lesson," Ginny snickered once Hermione had walked away. "House elf is a taboo word around her, unless you want to a lecture."

"Yeah, I know that," Theo sighed. "A little help wouldn't have been amiss, though."

"Forget it," she snorted. "Once she gets going, there's not a thing you can do to stop her. You've just got to let her go until she runs out of breath or gets distracted by something else."

"Any other taboos I should know about, now that I've got a Granger expert here to ask?"

"Plenty," Ginny smirked. "But if I told you, it wouldn't be anywhere near as fun."

With an evil twinkle in her eye, she lifted Ewan down to the floor and skipped off to join Hermione, curious to see who was at the door.

"You came!" Hermione's face broke into a wide smile when she found Harry and Ron stood on her step.

"Course we did," Harry pulled her into a hug. "Wouldn't miss the unveiling of your new flat, would we Ron?"

The redhead wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as Harry, but he at least nodded his agreement, scuffing his shoes against the floor, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

"Well, come in, come in!" she held the door a little wider. "I just finished all the painting, and Draco and Blaise are putting the bookshelves together upstairs."

Harry nodded approvingly as he took everything in. "I see what you mean about it being so open."

"Isn't it great?" Hermione nodded eagerly. "There's just so much light!"

"Yeah, it makes me want to hiss and pull a cloak over my face," Theo quipped from the staircase.

"Be quiet," Hermione scolded him. "I'm still miffed at you. It's wonderful. Sunlight is healthy."

"You keep saying that," Theo frowned. "But like I said, we've gotten by just fine in our dungeons."

Ron let out an amused snort of sorts, but quickly schooled his features back to an expression of disinterest when everyone turned to look at him. Hermione took this momentary slip as a reason for hope, however, and decided to push on.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, trying not to show how nervous she was.

When Ron didn't answer, Harry sighed and shook his head.

"Not lately. We were watching Teddy this morning."

"Great, I'll order the pizzas now, then."

"Excellent!" Harry clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly.

"Oh, so you know about this pizza contraption too, then?" Theo asked.

"They're purebloods," Hermione wrinkled her nose. "They don't understand the good things in life."

"Oh, here we go!" Draco came down the stairs, Blaise hot on his heels.

"Hush," she scolded him. "I'm talking."

"You're being ridiculous," he argued. "We grew up on the good things."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Hermione scoffed. "Don't worry, though. You've got me now, and I'm going to show you everything you've been missing out on all these years."

She gave him a self-satisfied smirk, then sauntered into the kitchen to use the phone that was still hanging on the wall, leftover from the muggle tenants.

"You know I hate to be the voice of reason," Blaise joined in. "But she's actually right."

"See!" Hermione beamed victoriously, then winced when she realized she was agreeing with Blaise and turned her attention back to the phone.

A tense silence settled over the room as Draco and Ron glared at each other, the rest of the occupants watching them nervously, waiting for Hermione to rejoin the group.

"Okay," she hung up and addressed the room again. "Pizzas will be ready in fifteen minutes or so. Ron, do you want to walk down to the shop with me?"

Draco held his breath, noting the desperate look in her eyes as she waited for her friend to answer- to make his decision one way or another. From the way Ginny and Harry were staring at the redhead, he assumed they were thinking the same thing.

"Yeah, sure," Ron finally shrugged, though he didn't look up from his sneakers, and Hermione's smile beamed a hundred watts brighter.

"Me too! Me too!" Ewan rushed across the room and began pulling at Ron's hand, making him jump back in surprise.

"What are you?!" he demanded.

"Ewan Rookwood," Draco introduced the toddler. "Sarah's younger brother."

"Who you?" Ewan asked, staring up at Ron quizzically.

"Ron," the redhead answered stiffly.

"Ron is Hermione's friend," Draco explained, walking over and lifting Ewan into his arms. "Hey, how about you come help Blaise and I with the bookshelves?"

"Yeah!" He bounced up and down in Draco's arms excitedly, all thought of going with Hermione gone as they made their way back up the stairs.

"So, you want to go?" Hermione turned back to Ron, biting her lip nervously.

"Sure." He slouched towards her, ignoring the pointed looks he was getting from Harry and his sister as they made their way to the door.

"This is a horrible idea, isn't it?" Ginny muttered to Harry.

"Probably," he nodded. "Then again, I've never seen Hermione fail when she's put her mind to something."

* * *

"So..." Hermione walked along slowly, her arms crossed over her chest so that Ron wouldn't be able to see how much she was fidgeting. "How have you been?"

"Okay," Ron shrugged, his hands shoved in his pockets again. "How about you?"

"The same. I've been working on the repairs at Hogwarts mostly."

"Harry told me," he nodded slowly. "How's that been going?"

"Good. It should be as good as new in time for September 1st."

"That's good."

They walked the next block in awkward silence, glancing at each other here and there, but quickly looking away whenever they met each others eyes. It was Ron who finally broke the silence, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and shaking his head, a harsh laugh escaping his lips.

"This is so stupid," he hissed.

"Ron-" Hermione turned to him nervously, but he didn't let her speak.

"I was an arse." He said bluntly, his face riddled with guilt. "I was worse than an arse, I was a bloody cunt, and I'm sorry."

"You were upset," she shook her head. "You just lost your brother-"

"-That's not an excuse," Ron insisted. "You have just as much to grieve as I do, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I know that. I'm sorry."

Hermione gave him a shaky smile, at a loss for what to say, then threw her arms around his neck. "It's okay. I forgive you."

They both let out heavy sighs of relief, the tension that had been building between them melting away immediately.

"So, you and Malfoy are pretty serious, huh?" Ron smirked innocently.

"Pretty serious," she chuckled. "Seeing as you're helping move us into our new flat."

"I was still kind of holding out hope that this was just some crazy, 'the world is ending so I'm going to shag my worst enemy' kind of thing," he admitted, though his tone wasn't nearly as harsh as she knew it could be.

"Sorry," Hermione shrugged. "It's sticking. I'm in love with him, Ron."

Ron simply nodded and slowly began walking again, leaving Hermione to follow.

"You're happy?" He finally asked, watching the sidewalk carefully. "I mean, he makes you happy? He takes care of you?"

"Yeah." Hermione said softly, a brilliant smile spreading across her face. "He makes me really happy."

"And all the other snakes in your flat, you're friends with them now too?"

"I don't know what I would have done without them these last months," she admitted. "I never _really_ fit in with the other Gryffindors, besides you lot and Neville, but with them... it's different. We all just clicked. We've really become like a family, us and the Greengrass sisters and Sarah and Ewan."

"I thought we already were a family," Ron said sadly. "You, me and Harry."

"Of course we are!" Hermione stopped and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to turn and look at her. "Ron, you will always be my family, _always_. You and Harry and Ginny and everyone else in your family, I couldn't live without you. My family is just a little bigger now. Theo and Blaise and Daphne and Astoria and Sarah and Ewan, they just... it's like we were all meant to find each other. We just fit so perfectly, like you, me and Harry."

She knew she sounded desperate and needy, but she didn't care. She had lost so much in the last two years, the thought of losing Ron solely because she couldn't make him see reason was too much- she needed him.

"They're not replacements," she pushed on. "It's not like that. I don't want to replace you, Ron. You're my best friend."

"You're my best friend too," Ron assured her, his voice strained by a mixture of annoyance and defeat.

"So can you just give them a chance?" Hermione pleaded. "I honestly think you'll get along if you get to know each other."

"You think I'm going to get along with Draco Malfoy?" Ron sniffed.

"I think you could be perfectly amicable acquaintances," she reasoned. "I'm not asking you to be best friends with them, Ron, I'm honestly not even asking you to like them."

"Then what are you asking?"

"I-" she stuttered for a moment, unsure of how to answer the question. "I'm asking you not to let them come between us," she finally decided. "I'm asking you not to make me choose between the man I love and my best friend."

Her words seemed to hit Ron like a heavy blow, making him step back to catch his breath, a stormy look in his eyes.

"Please," Hermione begged softly. "Please, don't let this be something else we lose because of the war. It's done now, we're all on the same side. Don't let Voldemort break us apart any more than he already has."

"Okay," Ron finally agreed, his shoulders sagging. "I'll try- for you. I don't want to lose you either."

"Thank you," she smiled tearily and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, well, it's a new world, right?" he shrugged awkwardly.

"Right," Hermione nodded into his shoulder, tears of relief brimming over and making his shirt wet. "Merlin, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Ron admitted, his arms tightening around her. "I'm sorry I was such a massive twat."

"Forget about it," she pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Draco and I keep saying how this flat is our fresh start, our clean slate now that everything is over. We can have that too."

"You'd really do that?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Even after all those awful things I said to you?"

"Of course I would," Hermione smiled. "Forgive and forget, right? If I can fall in love with Draco Malfoy, I can certainly forgive my best friend for something he didn't mean to say when he was grieving the loss of his brother."

"You're a bloody marvel, Hermione Granger," Ron chuckled remorsefully.. "We don't deserve you."

"Yes, well," she smirked in a very Malfoy-esque way and gave a little shrug. "We should get going, the pizzas will be ready by now."

Ron nodded and began to walk again, falling into step beside Hermione, their arms occasionally brushing against each other causing them both to smile.

"So, how have you really been?" Hermione asked, her tone full of worry.

"It's been hard," Ron admitted. "Mum cries all the time and George is... he's broken, Mione."

She nodded along as he spoke, taking his arm when his voice caught.

"They've never been apart," he continued sadly. "Never. They shared the same bed until they were eight, and now... he's so alone."

"But what about _you_?" Hermione repeated. In a family so large, and being the second youngest, she knew that Ron had always felt neglected- as though his brothers always came before him. She couldn't let him think she felt that way too.

"I feel helpless," he sighed. "I just want to be able to do something for them- Mum and George- but I don't know what. It's not like I can make them forget."

"Of course not," she shook her head. "But you're there for them. That's what's important."

They walked in silence again as Hermione tried to figure out what to say next, fighting against herself to ask what she was really worried about.

"Harry and Ginny said you've been drinking," she finally said hesitantly, keeping her eyes on the pavement.

"I was," he admitted it readily, much to her surprise. "It made it hurt less, you know?"

"Sure," she nodded. "But drinking doesn't take the pain _away_ , Ron, it just shoves it down for a while. Eventually you have to face it."

"I know. I've been trying, it's just..."

"Hard," Hermione finished for him. "I know."

"I really have been trying, though," he insisted. "I know that all it's doing is hurting me and everyone around me."

"That's great, Ron," Hermione smiled and squeezed his arm warmly. "I'm glad. And whatever I can do, just tell me."

"Honestly, I think it's going to help just having you back," Ron admitted, making Hermione smile even brighter. "Knowing that I've made things right with you, it'll take a lot off my mind."

"I feel exactly the same," she nodded.

* * *

"Finally!" Draco threw the door open when he heard the tell-tale 'pop' of apparition in the hallway, looking expectantly at Hermione and Ron. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Getting the pizzas." Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way so that she and Ron could get in. "Come on, lunch break!"

"You've been gone for ages1" Draco persisted, following her into the kitchen. "I was about to go out looking for you."

"He's in a very dramatic mood," Blaise came up and clamped his hands on Draco's shoulders. "I think it's all the change today, it's made him lose his mind ever so slightly."

"Get off," Draco shrugged out of his friend's grasp. "I'm not being dramatic-"

"Of course you're being dramatic," Hermione snorted,turning and cupping his cheek lovingly. "You usually are."

"I resent that," he glared at her comically.

"More like you resemble it," Theo muttered.

"See?" Hermione grinned, standing on tiptoe to kiss Draco's cheek. "Now, let's eat."

* * *

It was late into the evening when Draco and Hermione were finally alone in their new flat, their friends having left them after a dinner of leftover pizza and a Colin the Caterpillar cake that Harry had produced seemingly out of nowhere, and a tearful goodbye to Sarah and Ewan followed by promises that they would be at the castle for breakfast the next morning.

Unlike the dorms in Hogwarts, there was a silence that hung in the air once everyone had left, with no creaks or groans emanating from the building, or whispers of roommates or portraits. It was odd, Hermione thought, but not unpleasant. It lent a certain stillness to the place that made her feel calm and safe- a feeling that she so rarely experienced these days outside of Draco's arms.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, coming up behind her where she stood looking out at the rooftop patio and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Its just so quiet," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'd almost forgotten what it was like."

"What, quiet?"

"No, just... living in a home- without housemates and roommates and professors," she explained. "I'd forgotten how nice it is to be still- not waiting for everything to go to hell."

Draco nodded against her shoulder, tilting his head to press a soft kiss to her neck.

"It feels like home, doesn't it?" she asked, turning to look at him.

" _You_ feel like home," he answered seriously, his grey eyes meeting her brown.

She smiled softly, her hand coming up to cup the back of his head, pulling him down to her lips.


End file.
